Grand Canyon Deep
by hazelmom
Summary: McGee struggles to climb out of the depths of despair while Gibbs fights to help him. Lots of team friendship. Maybe a little McAbby. Warning: story contains a sexual assault.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I started this a few weeks ago, but have been holding on to it. I have tortured McGee in my stories, but he's never been assaulted. I've spent 20+ working with kids in crisis, many of whom have been assaulted. Their stories may start with the trauma, but the more important story is in their survival. As much as they are vulnerable, they are also fierce in their survival and I admire that greatly. I want that to find a place in this story about McGee. Let me know what you think. Sheila

Grand Canyon Deep

Chapter 1

She wore a beautiful blue silk dress and he smiled. She was achingly pretty, and he felt a rush of excitement when he saw her. They'd been dating four months now exclusively, and it finally felt safe enough to share her with his world.

She kissed him softly and he breathed in the light perfume of shampoo in her long honey hair. "You're breathtaking," he whispered into her ear.

"Thank you," she said as she pulled away. "Happy birthday."

His cheeks colored. "Thanks."

Her blue eyes scanned the room. "Where are your friends?"

He gestured to the other side of the room. "They're sitting over there."

Her hand gripped his arm. "Can we have a moment to talk before we go back to meet them?"

"Okay." He led her to a small table by the bar. A waitress walked by and he stopped her. "Two Pinot Grigios, please."

"Uh, I'm not thirsty," she said quickly. That's when he first noticed a twinge of anxiety in her eyes.

"Hey, my friends are great. They'll make you feel very welcome."

"No, not worried about that. Here, I got you something." She extended a card.

"You didn't have to," he said as he opened it. It was rather generic with no personal message except "much love, Jordan." A $100 gift certificate to slid out.

He leaned over and kissed her. "This is very generous, Jordan. I wasn't expecting anything."

"You really deserve it, Tim."

An eyebrow went up. There was definitely something off. "Are you okay?"

She hesitated, her smile containing little warmth. "I was always taught to be polite, but I know that I'll never be happy in life if I don't start saying what's on my mind."

"Absolutely. Honesty is paramount in a relationship."

"Yeah," she shifted in her chair. "Well, I was thinking about things this week. I know it's a big deal for me to meet your friends and I was happy to do it, but then I got this feeling in my stomach…"

"You're not ready," he interrupted. "I pushed you."

"No," she said, gripping his arm again. "You are so kind, so considerate. You would never push me about anything."

"Then I don't understand."

Jordan sighed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear and started slowly. "I realized this week that I've really enjoyed knowing you, Tim, but I don't really…feel anything…much for you…as a boyfriend. As a friend, you're top notch. Do you understand?"

McGee deflated. This was not a new conversation for him. It was at this point that he was expected to be gracious, pretending that he'd noted the same feelings himself, but this awkward dance was getting old in his life and he wanted answers. "What am I doing wrong? Can this be fixed?"

A twinge of annoyance passed over her face. "Tim, this is hard to articulate."

"Well, since I am kind and considerate, I'm just wondering what I can do. I work too many hours. I should take you out more. What do you think?"

"You're not making this easy."

He sat back and sighed. "Well, I know it's not easy for me."

She leaned forward and worried her pretty lips. "If that's the way you want it, Tim. The truth is that you don't have a lot of time, and it does bother me a little, but it should bother me a lot more than it does. You are the perfect boyfriend, and you listen to everything I say, but I don't feel excited when I see you. We don't have anything in common. There's no chemistry."

Tim looked up at the ceiling. "You're a teacher and you told me that you were tired of dating other teachers. You wanted someone with different interests."

"You never talk about your work."

"Jordan, you don't want to know about my work. I promise you. I deal with dead bodies, killers, and broken families. It's depressing."

"Tim, you can rationalize why we should keep working on this all you want, but I don't feel anything."

"You're not attracted to me."

"You're the most considerate lover I've ever had."

"God," he closed his eyes. "All right, that's enough. I get it."

"I didn't want to ruin your birthday. I wasn't going to say anything. You sort of pulled it out of me. I was going to save it for next week."

He rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I pulled it out of you."

"I say we pretend we never had this talk. I go back and meet your friends and we have a nice night. In a few weeks, you can tell them that…you broke up with me."

'That's really generous, Jordan. Thank you."

"You ready?"

"No." He looked down at the table. "Thanks for making the trip down here, but I don't need you to stay."

"Tim."

He pushed the gift certificate toward her. "Did you drive or do you need me to get you a cab?"

She pushed it back. "I want you to keep that. I'd like us to be friends."

"Sorry Jordan," he said standing up. "I didn't earn it."

The waitress set down the two glasses of wine. McGee handed her a credit card.

"I screwed this up."

He sighed. As in the past, it was now his job to make sure she didn't feel bad about walking away. "You didn't screw it up, Jordan. I much prefer knowing."

She nodded. "Being honest is hard but important. This was the right thing to do."

"Agreed. Now, do you need a cab?"

"I drove." She looked over his shoulder. "All of your friends are watching us."

"Undoubtedly."

"Should we pretend that everything's okay?"

"No, thank you. Good-bye Jordan." He picked up the two wine glasses and weaved his way to the back of the bar without a backward glance.

…..

"She's dumping him," Ziva sighed as she reached for her beer.

"She didn't deserve him," Abby growled. "Why does he go for those pretty little prissy girls anyway? They all look alike to me and they have no real appreciation for how special he is."

Ducky shook his head. "Timothy is one of the best men I know. It amazes me that he can't find a woman who truly appreciates him."

"He's a pushover. Doesn't present a challenge. Too sweet. Too accommodating. Women get bored with that," Tony said. He held his Jack and coke up to the light like it was a fine wine.

"Women are not the fickle creatures that you think we are," Ziva snorted.

"Then you marry McGee. He's perfect, right? What about you, Abby? McGee would walk through fire for you."

"It's not the same thing, Tony. We work together." Ziva retorted.

Tony looked at Abby. "You going to use the same excuse?"

She frowned. "It's none of your business what my feelings are, Tony."

"Okay guys, he's coming this way," Jimmy said as he put down a ridiculously large chocolate Martini.

They all were practicing casual when he showed up, one of his wine glasses already empty. He sat down next to Tony and his friend put an arm over his shoulder. "Do you want my advice?"

McGee sighed long and took a long gulp of the second glass of wine. "No Tony, I don't. I'm begging all of you. No advice. No post mortem. I don't want to hear that I'm too good for her. I don't want anyone to tell me that it'll happen for me when I'm least expecting it or that I'm better off without her. I know that I'm boring. I know that I'm a geek. And apparently the best that can be said about me is that I'm a considerate lover."

Tony groaned. "Ooooh! That's rough, Probie."

Ducky threw Tony a sharp look.

Abby leaned forward, grinning wickedly. "I thought you were a wonderful lover."

He blushed but smiled. "Thank god for you, Abby. With you, I never felt self-conscious."

Ziva looked from McGee to Abby and shook her head. "We never see what's right in front of us."

Abby looked at her sharply. "We're better as friends. We both feel the same way about that."

McGee nodded. "Plus, there's rule 12."

Ducky stood. "Yes, yes, it's a hard start to the evening, Timothy. Yet, we have all gathered to celebrate your 35th birthday. We need to clean your palate of the initial bad taste and replace it with some more appetizing. I'm going to order the smoothest, most expensive Glenlivet in this establishment."

"Thanks Ducky. I'm not much for hard alcohol though."

Tony slapped him on the back. "All of your best writers drank hard liquor. Think Ernest Hemingway."

"He killed himself, Tony."

"Let me get that scotch for you, Timothy."

Ziva reached over and squeezed his hand. "We're so sorry."

He pulled away. "No sympathy, Ziva."

"Where's Gibbs?" Abby asked.

McGee shrugged. "He was probably busy."

"He's made it to everyone else's birthday celebration so far this year. Even Jimmy's."

Jimmy screwed up his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

McGee looked down at his wine glass. With Gibbs not showing, this evening had managed to tap not only into his insecurities about relationships, his loneliness, but also, Gibbs' perception of his importance to the team.

Ducky sat down beside him with a dark scotch. "Now the trick to this, Timothy, is to sip it slowly. Let the liquid rest in your mouth for a moment, and then the welcome the burn as you swallow."

Tim raised his eyebrows. Hard liquor had always reminded him of what it might be like to drink lighter fluid. He never admitted it. People would chalk it up as one more indication of his unmanliness. He was hoping to avoid at least those comments this evening. Mining three of his deepest insecurities seemed like overkill for one birthday. He picked up the scotch, nodded at Ducky, and sipped it slowly. As expected, he found it to be overly bitter, and he struggled to control the grimace on his face.

Tony chuckled. "You'll get used to it."

Tim nodded, doing his best to show Ducky his appreciation. Ducky smiled and patted him on the back.

….

Gibbs had the phone to his ear before the end of the first ring. He sat up in his bed and frowned deeply. "How bad?...Bethesda?...No, you were right to call. I want to know when one of my people are in trouble."

He slid out of bed, grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt, and headed out the door.

…

Ducky met him at the door to the emergency room at Bethesda. "What do you know, Jethro?"

Gibbs shook his head. "I got a call saying that police found McGee in South D.C. about an hour ago. Said he was assaulted and they brought him here."

Ducky wrinkled up his face and looked at his watch. "I saw him just six hours ago. What would he be doing in South D.C.?"

"Was he in any condition to drive?"

"Oh no. He said me he would take a cab home. Timothy is very conscientious about not drinking and driving. And Tony promised me he'd watch after him before I left."

Gibbs rolled his eyes as he pushed through the doors. "And just what condition was DiNozzo in?"

The emergency room was quiet at 5 a.m. in the morning. Maintenance crews were mopping floors and nurses were updating charts. Gibbs went up to the desk. "I'm here to see Timothy McGee. He was brought in by police about an hour ago."

A tired nurse looked up. "Hold on right here."

For a few minutes, Gibbs and Ducky stood waiting. A weird feeling had settled in Gibbs' gut. Usually, a nurse would point to a curtain, and the patient would be found. Gibbs had reached the point where he was going to start walking down the hall pulling doors open when a middle-aged nurse walked up, wearing a tag that said, Barbara, SARS.

"You're looking for Timothy McGee?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Unfortunately, we are too," she said. "He left against advice about 30 minutes ago."

"Where did he go!" Gibbs

"How badly was he injured?" Ducky asked.

"It's been a long night," she said pointing to a row of chairs. "I'll tell you what I can."

Ducky joined her but Gibbs refused to sit.

She sighed. "The police brought him in. Apparently, they found him near Prescott Park. I was paged to do the exam. When I got there, Mr. McGee was reluctant to let me exam him. He said he was fine. From what I could see, it was clear that he needed treatment. I was taking time, trying to establish a relationship when he realized that his gun, badge, wallet, and keys were missing. Then he became very agitated, put his clothes back on, and tried to leave."

"You have security, right? You couldn't hold him?"

"No, I can't just restrain people."

"What did he say?"

She shook her head. "Not much. Kept saying that 'boss was going to kill him' if he didn't get his weapon and badge back. Then he took off. Hailed a cab outside of the emergency room. Tried to stop him. He didn't have any cash."

"What sort of injuries did he sustain?"

"Bruises to his face. Abrasions on his wrists. Terrible welts on his back. There were further injuries, but I didn't get a chance to examine him closely."

"But they paged you especially, and you are a Sexual Assault Response Staff," Ducky said slowly.

"Yes, they did, but I don't know enough to know what or if there was such an assault and if I did know, I wouldn't tell you without his permission."

"Of course."

She leaned forward. "I'm not the police, but that doesn't mean I just sit by and watch people take off without doing something. He took an Atlas cab #2136. I told dispatch to have the driver call me."

Gibbs nodded. "Good work!"

The cell phone on her belt vibrated, and she picked it up. She listened for a moment and then looked up. "It's the driver. He's pissed because Mr. McGee stiffed him."

Gibbs took the phone. He started barked into the phone. Then he hung up and grabbed Ducky by the arm. "He got dropped off at Prescott Park."

….

Tony stabbed at his nightstand several times before he found his phone. Wincing, he pulled it to his ear. "Who? What? I'm not on call!"

"Wake up, Tony."

"Ducky?" DiNozzo sat up. He rubbed at his face furiously.

"Timothy never made it home."

Tony turned to the red display on his clock radio. It read 5:45 a.m. "I poured him in a cab five hours ago. What the hell?"

"I don't have time to explain everything. Police found him in Prescott Park beaten up. Jethro and I came down to the hospital, and he'd already left. We think he's back at the park looking for his weapon and badge."

Tony shook his head. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Oh Tony, we don't have time. Gibbs wants you to meet us at Prescott Park. Timothy's injured and wandering around in probably the most dangerous neighborhood in D.C."

Tony didn't answer. The comforter on his bed shifted, revealing a head of dark curly hair. His mouth dropped open.

"Tony!" Ducky barked.

"I'm on my way," he said putting the phone back on its receiver. Gingerly, he pushed at the mound under his comforter. The wild head of hair rose, and a pair of dark eyes glared at him.

…

At 6 a.m., the dark had begun to soften. The city park looked deserted; the only sounds being the pigeons waking for the day. Gibbs and Ducky got out. It was a large park of at least 10 acres, and while it used to be a hub of community activity, it was now most known for its gang presence and drug activity.

It would have worked best for them to separate, but there were too many dark areas, and Ducky didn't carry a gun. Gibbs had called for back up, but had yet to see any squads descend upon the park. It was a typical scenario for some inner cities to leave the most crime-ridden areas abandoned at night. There wasn't the manpower to fully patrol them safely.

Using a flashlight, Gibbs highlighted a park shelter where 10-15 homeless people were sleeping. He gestured for Ducky to stay on the sidewalk while he wandered in and queried about his agent. He returned a few minutes later with a shake of his head.

Ducky pointed at some rusted playground equipment in the distance. There was a lone figure swinging. The two of them trotted off in that direction. The morning sun was beginning to blaze at the horizon. As they grew closer, they saw that it was a boy on the swing wearing a hoodie and jeans in the cool morning air. He couldn't have been more than 12 or 13 years old. As they approached, he continued to swing back and forth, completely unconcerned about their approach.

"Hey," Gibbs said. "Are you out here alone?"

The boy shrugged as he swung.

"Where do you live?"

The boy glanced over at a broken down apartment complex at the north end of the park.

"You shouldn't be out here alone."

The boy slowed the swing, catching on the gravel with his sneakers. "You looking for that beat up white guy?"

"We are."

The boy walked off the swing. "I couldn't believe he came back here after T-bone finished with him. He either crazy or dumb."

"Do you know where he is?"

The boy looked around the park. "It's not good for me to be talking to you."

"We'll make sure you're safe," Gibbs said.

"Yeah, right," the boy snorted, kicking up dirt.

"What's your name?" Ducky asked.

"Devon." The boy eyed them both warily.

"The white guy to whom you are referring is a friend of ours. We want to find him. Make sure he's okay."

Devon looked down at the ground for a moment, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "What happened to that guy isn't no business of mine."

Gibbs pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.

Devon shook his head and refused it. "I just wish people cared about what happened to folks that actually have to live here."

"His name is Tim and he's a really good guy, Devon."

The kid nodded, shifted from one foot to another, and then pointed to an abandoned building to the East. "There's a courtyard around back of that building. That's where T-bone and his crew took him."

Gibbs reached over and cupped the kid's chin. "I won't forget this, Devon."

He pulled out a card and put it in Devon's front pocket. "You need anything. You call me."

The kid was expressionless as the two men took off through the park to the East.

….

"How could he have ended up in this neighborhood? It is not even on the way to Silver Springs." Ziva said.

He didn't venture a look at her as he focused on navigating early morning D.C. traffic. "That's mystery number one, but don't think we aren't also going to explore the mystery of how you ended up in my bed."

She rolled her eyes. "I drove you home and I was tired. Your bed is large and I am not. There was plenty of room for both of us."

Tony shook his head. "As if it were that simple, my little kumquat. I am no stranger to the manipulations of which you are capable."

Ziva frowned as she surveyed the neighborhood. "Maybe he passed out in the cab. Maybe the driver rolled him for his wallet and dumped him. Do you remember the name of the cab company that picked him up?"

"It was Capitol Cabs. Get on the phone with them. Let's find out who picked him up."

….

The decay and neglect they saw as they moved through the park was depressing. There were broken wine bottles, syringes, and trash everywhere. This was clearly a place that was no longer safe for children and families at any time of the day or night. They followed overgrown brush around the side of the abandoned building. The sun had climbed to a point that Gibbs shut off the flashlight.

The overgrown courtyard had a rusted swing set and slide. There was also an old push merry-go-round with iron bars. Gibbs noticed that there was frayed rope tied to the bars. He started to step closer but became aware of a movement in the shadows. He drew his weapon and stepped in front of Ducky. "NCIS! Drop your weapon!"

An iron bar clattered to the concrete. "Boss?"

Gibbs relaxed his aim, letting his arm drop. "McGee! Get out here!"

Tim limped out of the shadows, his face a collage of bruises. His wrists were raw and cut. Ducky strode toward him, but McGee put up a hand. "Just stop, Ducky."

Gibbs shook his head. "What are you doing, Tim?"

McGee looked down at the ground. "They took my weapon and my badge."

"And you don't call me!"

McGee shook his head. "It's my mess, my problem. I came back here to take care of it."

"And how's that working for ya', McGee?" The absurdity of the situation had gripped Gibbs, and he couldn't hide the sarcasm in his voice.

Ducky moved forward again and McGee startled. "Back off, Ducky! I mean it!"

"Hey, McGee! You don't talk to him like that!"

Ducky shook his head at Gibbs. "Jethro, he's right. We need to back off. We need to listen."

The concern in Ducky's eyes reminded Gibbs of the feeling he had in his gut earlier when he found out that a SARS nurse had been called. He rubbed at his face in frustration. "I'm sorry, Tim. You've had a rough night. I shouldn't have yelled."

McGee said nothing.

"Tell us what happened. You look kind of dead on your feet. Do you want to sit?"

Something raw flashed across McGee's face and he shook his head.

"How did you get here?"

"I am such an idiot, Boss. I mean, my judgment really sucks. How have you put up with it all these years?"

His vulnerability cut at Gibbs and he looked at Ducky for help.

"Timothy, you've had a bad night. You're upset, but you have to know that you can't judge yourself so harshly. You would never have survived all these years at NCIS if you were a man of poor judgment."

McGee opened his mouth to argue, but Ducky firmly wagged a finger. "Not another word in defense of such an idea. It's frivolous. Tell us what happened after you left the bar."

Tim shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I lost my badge and my gun. Doesn't get much worse than that."

Gibbs bristled. "I don't care about the damn gun and the badge right now. Just tell us what happened."

McGee swayed a little. "I fell asleep in the cab. Woke up and we were in this part of town. The driver was taking advantage. He was driving me around the city. Wanted to jack up the price. I started yelling at him. He yelled back. He stopped the cab at here at Prescott. He knew I'd never get out. No chance I'd find another cab. I was going to call police, and he relented. Said he'd take me to Silver Springs on a flat $30. Then a kid ran by into the park. 6-7 guys followed, carrying pipes…I reacted. I got out, pulled my gun, and told the driver to call 911 and then I took off after them…"

Gibbs nodded slowly. "Then what?"

McGee shook his head.

"Come on, Tim. That's not how we work."

Tim looked away, and they could see rust colored lines on the neck and back of his shirt. Ducky stepped forward again. "I need to take a look, Timothy."

McGee nodded slowly. "I know."

"You don't have to talk about anything right now. Just let me get a look at you."

McGee looked down at the ground.

Gibbs' phone buzzed and he picked it up. "Yeah, we found him…he's…okay…We are at the north end of the park…" McGee's head snapped up when Gibbs started giving directions. He saw this and stopped. "Tony, you and Ziva need to find a place to park and then wait…don't argue with me. I'll call you in a few minutes."

McGee's breath quickened and a look of distress settled into his features. Ducky took note. "Jethro, could you give the two of us a couple of minutes? Please."

Gibbs nodded and backed out of the courtyard. He turned the corner of the building and leaned against its face. He'd seen a lot of trauma in his days, but there was something about what he saw on McGee's face that left him very disturbed, and it was all he could do to keep from leaning forward and vomiting whatever left in his gut. The young man was clearly in shock, but it was more than that. McGee always maintained a dignity about him. He was always a little reserved, not prone to DiNozzo's goofiness. Someone had attempted to abscond with McGee's dignity in this park, and the young man was clinging to the vestiges of it with all of his might. Gibbs felt a rage building deep in his gut over what might have done to his junior agent.

A few minutes later, Ducky came out leading McGee. The young man walked slowly and stiffly. He no longer tried to meet Gibbs' eyes. Ducky's face was flushed in a way Jethro hadn't seen since Kate died. Ducky murmured something to McGee, and the young man started off on his own toward Gibbs' car. The back of McGee's shirt was covered with rust colored stains crisscrossed everywhere. Gibbs turned to Ducky, his eyes hard. "Is that what I think it is?"

"They tied him down and beat badly with a belt for quite some time. They also used a pipe."

"Broken bones?"

"The pipe was not used for hitting, Jethro," Ducky said with a sigh.

Jethro jerked his head sharply at him. "What are you saying, Duck?"

"I'm not saying anything. It's not my story to tell. I'm taking him back to Bethesda. He needs an exam. Some of the cuts are quite painful, and…there are some that will need to be stitched. He may need surgery. He wants you to know that the pipe he dropped earlier is a piece of evidence."

Gibbs shook his head in frustration. "I need more. Why would he need surgery, Duck? He's not giving me enough and you're not helping."

"Today, he's not your agent," Ducky hissed. "He's the survivor of a vicious attack. And if you want to help him, you better damn well figure out the difference. Your impatience is only going to only hurt him."

Gibbs pointed a finger. "I'm going to catch these assholes, and McGee is going to get a chance at justice. And you know he wants that! I'm doing this for him, not me!"

The sound carried and McGee stopped for a moment and slowly turned his head. Gibbs and Ducky went silent until he started to limp again toward the car.

"Come see him in a few hours, Jethro. I'm sure he'll tell you what you need to know."

"You tell him that we are going to fix this. He's going to be just fine. You tell him that, Duck!"

….

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to those who are reading. I have a thousand ideas. It's the sort of thing that tends to happen when I have a bunch of other things that need doing. Chapter 3 should happen by Friday. Please let me know what you are thinking. Sheila

Spoilers for my favorite NCIS bromance episode: season 7, Guilty Pleasure

Grand Canyon Deep

Chapter 2

Tony looked up from where he was bagging the frayed ropes that held McGee to the merry-go-round, his face flushed. "I still don't know what happened here, Boss. You're giving us almost nothing."

"Tony!" Ziva frowned. "Gibbs told us what he knows."

"I put the kid in a cab 7 hours ago and he ends up tied to playground equipment in Prescott Park. And I still don't understand all that they did to him. How the hell are we supposed to run an investigation like this?"

Gibbs was drawing the layout of the crime scene, something that usually McGee did. He was almost too calm as Tony ranted at him. "I'll interview him when we're done here."

"I'm coming too."

Gibbs shook his head. "No. We don't overwhelm him."

Tony pulled his cap off and threw it down. "What does that mean! What happened here?"

Gibbs stared him down. "Look at the evidence. Look at the drag marks through the dirt. They pulled him in here. Tied him down. There's blood evidence on the merry-go-round. They beat him with something, a belt probably. Whatever it was, they hit him hard enough to cut him."

Ziva picked up the plastic bag with the pipe inside. "What about this?"

Gibbs said nothing.

"You said he had no broken bones, Gibbs. I can see the blood evidence on this. What did they do with this pipe?"

"I'll know more after I talk to him."

Tony wheeled around on his heel. "Son of a bitch! What the hell was I thinking? We should've driven him home. Why didn't we drive him home, Ziva?"

She shook her head.

"We let this happen!"

Ziva looked away.

"Enough!" Gibbs glared at them. "We process this scene like we do any other. We don't make any mistakes and we get these guys. Understood?"

Ziva nodded. "I got the name of the cab driver from Capitol Cabs. We visit him after this."

Tony added. "Then we go meet with Metro. We find out what gang runs this park."

"You're going to have smooth it so they don't pull jurisdiction."

"I got it."

"A kid told me that this was T-bone and his crew. Find out from Metro who T-bone is."

"Yeah, we'll find T-bone," Tony said.

"No, DiNozzo. You'll talk to the cabbie and Metro. When it comes time for T-bone, then I'm going to be there along with you. You hear me?"

"Got it."

Gibbs looked over the scene. "Not much else to find here. I'm going to go see McGee now."

Tony stood up. "Tell him…tell him that we've got his six. Tell him that, okay?"

…

McGee was sedated when Gibbs got to his room. He was lying on his side, his bruises a stark contrast to his fair complexion. Ducky looked up as he entered. "It wasn't as bad as we thought. It only took an hour to close his wounds. He's still out from the anesthesia."

Gibbs sat on the other side of the bed. "They sodomized him with that pipe, didn't they?"

Ducky closed his eyes. "Yes. Luckily, that was all they used to penetrate him. Timothy was quite worried about this, but we found no presence of semen."

"When I catch those punks, I'm half tempted to return the favor."

"Today, I won't even try to appeal to your better angels. It sounds like a satisfying response."

They were silent a few moments until Jethro's brow furrowed. "I always thought McGee trusted me. Yet, he seemed so uncomfortable when I was there."

Ducky sighed. "You don't tolerate mistakes well. He's spent the last 7 years attempting to live up to your standards. He knows he shouldn't have chased them into park without backup. That was his mistake, but even more than that, he wonders what would have happened if it had been Ziva or Tony or you. In McGee's mind, all of you would have been able to get away. He is the only one who was weak enough to be captured."

"He was drunk, Duck. I don't blame him for anything."

"Perhaps, but you are allergic to weakness, and his vulnerability right now is going to look a lot like weakness. You can get pretty impatient when your idea of weakness is displayed, especially with him. You remember the crazed fan that killed people from his novel or the time he tried to cover for his sister or when he was protecting Abby from her crazy ex-boyfriend. You were not exactly easy on him during those episodes."

Gibbs frowned. "I'm hard on all of them when they screw up."

"Okay," Ducky sighed. "Just remember that it's different this time."

"I'm not that bad, Ducky."

"Last night was his birthday. He brought that girl he's been blushing about for four months. She broke up with him in front of us. He was miserable. We spent hours trying to get him feeling okay again. Where were you?"

Jethro shrugged. "I had things to do."

"You knew this was a really important night for him."

"I bet he was glad there was one less person to watch him getting dumped."

"Yes, but you matter to him a great deal. More than you seem to understand."

"McGee doesn't need a surrogate daddy."

Ducky shook his head. "You really surprise me sometimes, Jethro."

Gibbs leaned forward across McGee. "I care about him like I care about any of them."

"I know how deeply you care, but you never tell them, especially him."

"Are we going to sit here and argue all afternoon? 'Cause if that's the case, I'll wait outside until he wakes up."

There was a short silence and then Ducky sighed. "I plied him with scotch. I saw how he was hurting and I bought him three glasses of Glenlivet. If not for me, he probably would've stuck to his white wine. Undoubtedly, he wouldn't have gotten so drunk."

"Oh for God's sakes, Duck."

"Yes, I know how silly that sounds. I had no notion of what would happen. I should know better than to feel guilty about it."

"Listen to me. I may be a bastard. I may not show my people how I feel for them. I may take them for granted, but I know what I can do. I can fight for them, and I know how to teach them to fight for themselves. And I believe that McGee's going to need that part of me more than he'll need anything else."

…

The cabbie's name was Darby Williams, and Tony and Ziva had the dispatcher pull him in off the streets. Metro sent Detective Phil McCadden over to liaison with them. DiNozzo had last seen McCadden a year and a half ago during an investigation involving the D. C. madam, Holly Snow.

Williams was sullen from the moment they sat down, and it was all Tony could do to keep from bitch-slapping him. Ziva kept a hand on his thigh and took the lead in the interview. "We know our friend, Timothy McGee, was in your cab last night. We were both there when he got in your cab. Instead of taking him straight to Silver Springs as directed, you ended up with him in front of Prescott Park an hour later—"

"That's not what happened," Williams retorted.

Ziva just held up a hand. "We're not going to argue about it, Mr. Williams. These are facts. We were there when he got in your cab, and he remembers how he ended up in Prescott Park."

"I got lost."

Tony shook his head. "See, now you want me to hurt you. It's like you're begging for it."

"It was late. And sure, I took a little detour. Man was sleeping in the back. I need the money. I didn't mean any harm."

Ziva sighed. "He woke up and realized what you were doing."

Williams nodded. "He went bananas. Started screaming at me. Ordered me to pull over right away. Wanted to get out."

Tony chuckled. "I can see that being truthful is a real struggle for you. What do you think, McCadden? You hearing enough to pull his license?"

"We're getting close."

Williams threw up his hands. "What do you want?"

"The truth, asshole."

"We fought in the cab. He was pissed. Said he was a federal agent. I freaked out. Offered to take him to Silver Springs for a flat $30. Thought he would take it, and then some kid ran across the street. Thugs were chasing him. Your friend gets out of the car and takes off after them."

"He told you to call 911."

Williams shrugged.

"It's not a frickin' question!" Tony pounded the table.

"It's a bad neighborhood. I drove down the street and called the cops. Then I left."

Ziva shook her head. "According to dispatch, you never called."

"They're screwed up over there, and I never left my name."

"I don't think so," Tony said. "If I was going to stretch a ride, Prescott Park area is the last place I'd be cruising unless, of course, I had some business over there. I think you live in that area or at least, you have people there. I think you were going to roll the sleeping man in the backseat only he woke up before you could meet up with someone. When he got out of your cab, there was no way you were going to send him any help whatsoever."

"That's a damn story."

"Yeah, but it's my favorite one. And if I can't find another one, I'm going to work all the evidence to fit this one. Putting you in jail feels right to me. I like it. What do you think, Ziva?"

She shrugged. "It wouldn't bother me any."

Williams frowned. "I ain't saying nothing more without a lawyer."

"You do that. In the meantime, your license is suspended. And if you want any of that to change, you're going to be available for us when we catch these punks. I'd like to see you remember some faces. What do you say?"

"It was dark and I don't want no trouble."

"Oh Darby, you got trouble no matter how you look at it. You just gotta' decide which trouble you want to avoid the most. My trouble automatically involves a lot of jail time. So you think about that."

They waited until Williams slunk away and then DiNozzo leaned toward McCadden. "You got info on this T-bone?"

"He runs an arm of the Crips down in Prescott Park. He's a real sadistic son of a bitch. What he pulled on McGee is the same M.O. he's pulled on 5 different victims in the last eighteen months, and those are just the ones willing to step forward."

"What are the five that filed complaints?"

"Three backed out and the other two disappeared."

Tony shook his head. "Well, McGee isn't going anywhere. We're going to nail this asshole."

"How's McGee doing? Is he up for an interview? I can head over there right now."

"Gibbs will interview him," Ziva said quickly.

McCadden shook his head. "Not good enough. You're here as a courtesy."

"McCadden, you know enough about what happened to know that he doesn't need a crowd. Gibbs is the best. He'll do that interview the way it needs to be done."

McCadden narrowed his eyes. "Is this because I told you that he was too nerdy to be a decent wingman for you when we worked that case two years ago? You know, when I told you that you deserved better."

Ziva frowned at Tony. "What is this? Better than McGee? There is no one better than McGee."

"That's just what I told him. McGee is my wingman and always will be. I don't know a better person than Tim McGee. My problem is not what you said. I'd forgotten about all that. It's just that we protect our own, and you'd do the same thing if this was your partner."

"I'm going to need access to him at some point."

Tony nodded. "We'll take it day by day. Right now, we're not going to expose him to anybody but us."

McCadden leaned forward. "Don't think because this is inner city, we don't care about what happens at Prescott. We want that bastard, T-bone, and we've wanted him for a long time. If McGee can get us there, then I'm going to push."

"We're on the same page, Phil, but you're not trampling over him on your way there. We won't allow it."

McCadden got up and pointed a finger. "I better hear from you tomorrow or I'm heading over to Bethesda with or without your okay."

…..

Abby's hair was sleek and long, and she was wearing something black and slinky. Ducky blinked at the femme fatale she could be when she wasn't the forensic prodigy bouncing around in pigtails and a lab coat. As always, she had a brilliant smile for him. She noted the plastic bags of evidence on her table and cocked her head at him. "Why are you babysitting my evidence? What's the case? Has to be big for me to get paged on a Saturday night. Gibbs likes to let me have my weekend."

Ducky sighed. "Sit down, Abby. I need to talk to you."

She froze. "You're being weird, Ducky. What's going on? Why aren't you with the body?"

"There's no body. The victim is still very much alive."

She gripped the edge of her table. "Something's wrong. You're scaring me, Ducky."

"Abby, Timothy was assaulted last night after he left the bar. It's a complicated story, but he was badly beaten…he was assaulted…and he's in the hospital…He'll make a full recovery."

She stared at the bags on her table and stepped away. "This is the Tim's evidence?"

Ducky swallowed. "Someone else will process it. I brought you here because he doesn't want visitors, and this is where you feel safest."

"You're afraid I'll overreact."

"Abby—"

She put a hand up. "It's okay. I do that. Sister Rosita talked to me about it. I wanted to volunteer at the Rape and Sexual Assault Center. She said that it's hard when survivors have to deal with the emotions of the people around them. Sometimes, survivors end up caretaking the people who want to support them."

Ducky nodded. "It's really good that you understand that."

Her chin trembled. "But it's my Timmy."

Ducky opened his arms. "Come here, my dear."

…..

He watched as McGee clutched the bed sheets tightly, gritting his teeth. Gibbs frowned. "They tell me you're refusing medication."

McGee breathed in short pants. "You need a statement from me, don't you? Can't be hyped up on morphine for that."

"We could wait another day or two, Tim."

McGee winced. "This not a priority for you? Don't you want to catch them?"

The anger in his voice startled Gibbs. "Bringing this dirt bag and his people in is my priority."

"Then we can't wait. Let's do it."

"You know the drill, Tim." Gibbs sat down and waited.

McGee shifted a little, the pain radiating on his face. "When I ran into the park, I knew I was making a mistake. It was too dark. None of the lights in there were being maintained. I tripped over something, and before I could get up, men were on top of me. I was kicked and hit, and then I was frisked. They took my gun, wallet, badge, and keys. I tried to fight but there were too many of them. I was dragged for quite a distance. I remember thinking when they pulled me behind the building that I was probably not going to make it out alive. It was the perfect cover. Nobody around…"

McGee stopped to take a breath. Gibbs merely waited.

"They pulled my clothes off. I was tied face down to the bars of the merry go round. It was surreal. I couldn't really imagine what they wanted. I couldn't process the idea of rape. It was too much…" McGee's chin trembled.

"We can do this later," Gibbs said softly.

McGee shook his head and whispered. "Just give me a minute."

Gibbs waited while McGee rubbed at his face and composed himself.

"I listened for clues: names, places, anything. I heard the name T-bone and I heard the name Rufus. They argued over who would get to beat me first. There must have been six men. I thought they were going to beat me to death with pipes, but they had something else in mind. I've never been beaten with a belt before. I think it was a belt or belts or whips…I don't know. I've never known pain like that before…It became a contest to see who could make me beg, but I wouldn't play…"

Gibbs leaned forward. "Tim, there's no shame in doing what was necessary in order to survive."

McGee's eyes were soft and wet. "I wasn't being brave, Boss. Just stubborn. Always been like that. When I was a kid, I used to stand there like a frickin' statue when I was getting bullied. Never let anyone see a tear until I got home. Make no mistake. I wasn't silent. I screamed plenty. Cursed. I just wouldn't beg."

"How long did it go on?"

"Forever," he whispered. "I passed out a couple of times. Thank God for that."

"And the pipe?"

McGee shook his head. "I woke up and the pain was different. It was indescribable. I thought I was being stabbed. I knew I was dying. Prayed it would be quick. Passed out again. I woke up and someone was fumbling at the ropes on my wrists. It was a kid. African American. Looked to be about ten or twelve. It was dark. Hard to say. He told me to run. Said they would come back. I didn't argue. I just went. Left that child behind. Should never have done that."

Gibbs nodded. "I think I met that kid. He's okay."

"I collapsed on a curb. I woke up and police were there. They loaded me in the back of the cruiser and took me here."

Gibbs worried his lip for a moment. "But you didn't stay. I understand it had to do with your boss killing you if he found out you lost your weapon and your badge."

McGee grimaced. "I wasn't thinking, Boss."

"You remembered me telling you that if you ever lost your badge or gun, you shouldn't bother coming in. I must've said that to all of you a hundred times. I was always worried about it because it meant an automatic suspension. But you had to know that it wasn't worth your life. You had to know that I would fight for you if it ever happened."

McGee grit his teeth and moaned.

"Pain is getting too bad. I can tell." Gibbs stood up.

McGee shook his head. "Let me finish, Boss."

"It's enough, Tim. I know enough now." Gibbs buzzed for the nurse. McGee struggled to remain stoic, but the pain from his many injuries was too much. He held a hand over his mouth, his eyes closed tightly. When a nurse didn't appear immediately, Gibbs cursed and went in search of help.

…..

Gibbs lifted his stiff neck from his arms. The room was blurry and it took a moment for his vision to focus. The clock on the wall said 4:30 a.m. and there was a cold cup of coffee on the table in front of him. He was in a cafeteria. He shook his head and groaned. He'd left McGee's room at 1 a.m. He pushed away from the table and got up. He picked up the coffee and found a microwave near the utensils and napkins. Coffee heated, he headed for the elevator. He was passing the waiting room on McGee's floor when he saw them. Abby was sleeping on a pillow on Ducky's lap while his head leaned against the back of the chair and he snored. Ziva curled up like a cat sleeping in a chair while Tony sat in a chair next to her like a sentinel, his eyes wide open.

"What are you doing here?"

Tony glared at him with bloodshot eyes. "He belongs to us too."

"How are we going to be any good to him if none of us gets any sleep?"

Ducky lifted his head. "How is he?"

Gibbs shook his head. "He's on a lot of pain medication. Not very lucid. I fell asleep in the cafeteria for a few hours. I should go back in."

"I'd like to hear the interview you did," Tony said.

"You will."

"Where is it?"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Are you and I going to have a pissing contest I don't know about?"

"I'd do anything for him. He's dorky and loyal and sweet, and I love him like a brother. I will not be kept in the dark about this."

Gibbs sighed and nodded. "Not my intention, Tony. Just don't want to overwhelm him."

Ziva sat up and Abby climbed off Ducky's lap. She brushed the hair out of her eyes, and came over to Gibbs, enveloping him in a hug. "Thanks for taking care of him, Gibbs."

Something about it stabbed his gut and he pulled away. "Really not much I can do."

She searched his eyes. "Timmy believes everything that comes out of your mouth, and I know you'll tell him all the right things so he gets better."

Before he could respond, a howl erupted down the hall. Then a nurse ran by. Gibbs took off after her. He ran into McGee's room after her. McGee was on the ground in his hospital gown, attempting to drag his pants up over his thighs.

The nurse dropped down beside him. "What are you doing, Mr. McGee?"

McGee looked past her to Gibbs, his eyes feverish. "I heard the call out, Boss. I'm just having trouble with these pants. It's like they're on fire. Tony must've done something to them. Just give me a minute. It won't happen again. I promise."

Ducky pushed past Gibbs and knelt beside McGee. "It's okay, Timothy. You don't need your pants right now. They're chafing against your wounds."

"It's a call out, Ducky. Something really bad happened to a guy in a park. We gotta' get there now."

Ducky turned to the nurse. "Call his doctor, please."

She got up and ran out the room. Ducky looked up at Gibbs and the rest of the team assembled in the doorway, faces frozen in shock. "He's hallucinating. It sometimes happens with this much pain medication."

Tim grabbed at Ducky's arm. "He's getting hurt really bad; the kind of bad that you don't come back from. I don't think he can survive it."

Ducky nodded at Gibbs and Tony. "Help me get him back into the bed. He's very fragile. Be careful."

Gibbs and Tony slowly lifted McGee by his arms, and he howled again as his wounds had to stretch again. They carefully leaned him against the bed and rolled him onto it. There was more yelling that subsided to panting. McGee found Gibbs' eyes and shook his head. "I don't think we can get there in time, Boss. It's like a never-ending hell and I wish it would just be over for him."

Gibbs stared at him, speechless.

Tony turned to Ducky. "Is this some weird kind of transference? He's talking about himself in the 3rd person like it's happening all over again."

"It's a delusion. His mind is struggling with the reality of what happened. By externalizing it, he's able to maintain some control. This is the only safe way he can process it."

McGee shook his head. "This pain will never stop, will it? That poor bastard."

Silent until now, Ziva slipped past Gibbs and took Tim's hand. "The pain does stop. It does. I promise."

He fixed his eyes on her and sighed deeply. "Ziva. Thank God you're here. You understand."

Her eyes were wet as she stroked his cheek softly. "I do."

His breathing began to settle. "It's too hard. You know. It's too hard and I remember when you said you didn't want to live anymore."

She nodded. "But you and Tony and Gibbs wouldn't let me give up."

"We should've listened to you."

"But then I would be dead now."

His foggy mind tried to organize it all and a look of distress crossed his face. "No Ziva."

She leaned over and spoke into his ear. "You won't suffer the pain alone. We are here and we will hold on with you until it gets better."

The nurse came back in. "The doctor's on the phone. Can you talk to him, Dr. Mallard?"

Ducky nodded and followed her out. Gibbs leaned against the wall, looking almost as fragile as McGee. "I don't know what I'm doing. You all understand this better than I do. We should take turns sitting with him. He shouldn't be alone like this."

Ziva nodded. "I will stay with him first. We share an understanding. He needs that now."

"Good," Gibbs nodded.

"I'll take over when you need rest," Abby said. The rest of the team looked at her and she sighed. "I know you think I can't handle it but I can. I've learned a lot about handling my emotions. I know how to do this. Besides, Timmy will feel safe with me. I promise."

Tony found a chair in the corner of the room. "I'm not moving from this spot until he's lucid again."

Gibbs looked around the room and felt out of place. "I…uh, should go home for a few hours."

Abby nodded. "Get some rest. We'll take care of him."

….

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I want to thank Junee and Precious Pup for being such devoted readers. This story hasn't found much of an audience yet, and their support keeps me from second-guessing my direction. If you haven't read Precious Pup stories, you really need to look them up. She has really inspired me. Take care and let me know your thoughts. Sheila

Grand Canyon Deep

Chapter 3

They knew how to be there for one another. They'd gone through so much together over the years. From Kate's death to Gibbs' near death to finding Ziva in that desert in Somalia, they knew about hard times. They'd seen each other scared, angry, and they'd seen each other despondent. They weren't a terribly demonstrative group. Mostly, support on Gibbs' team looked like teasing, jokes, and a shared sense of purpose. This time, support meant standing vigil over McGee.

Ziva was downstairs getting a couple of sandwiches when McGee woke up with clear eyes. Tony didn't say anything to him. He just nodded and waited. For a while, McGee just looked back at him, and it was as the two of them were acknowledging the last eight years together.

Tim grimaced and looked away.

Tony leaned forward. "Need more medication?"

McGee shook his head.

"This is a tough one, isn't it?"

McGee didn't say anything.

"I'm going to have to do all the heavy lifting in this conversation, aren't I?"

"Sarah," Tim mumbled.

Tony closed his eyes. "The two of you almost always meet up on Sundays, don't you?"

McGee nodded.

"I'll call her."

He shook his head. "Go see her. Tell her…I was in a car accident. Tell her I'm okay."

"I hate to lie to her."

"Not ready, Tony. Please."

Tony nodded. "It's your show, Tim. I'll follow your lead."

McGee's eyes reddened. "I really screwed up this time, Tony."

"No, Tim, we're not going to do this. If you go there, then Ziva and I got to torture ourselves about not driving you home and Ducky has to torture himself about getting you drunk."

Tim closed his eyes. "Think the boss will forgive me?"

"I know you can feel how angry he is, but Boss isn't mad at you. He wants to find his T-bone and his crew and drop them off a cliff."

"Wouldn't have happened to you."

DiNozzo screwed up his face. "Have you met me before? Same situation, I would've jumped out of that cab too. You know I would've. Stop acting like you should've been McSuperman. None of us would've been gotten away in Prescott Park in the middle of the night after being jumped by a gang. So forget about it already."

McGee sighed. "Things will never be the same."

Tony shook his head. "No, they won't. They weren't the same after Kate or after Somalia. It's life, Tim. We're never the same after something painful. Doesn't mean we don't grow and move on. That's what is going to happen here too."

A tear ran down McGee's cheek. "Some mountains are too high to climb, Tony."

Tony moved his chair until he was next to the bed. He reached over and captured the moisture with his thumb. "You're not going to climb it alone. Just remember that. Okay?"

…

His rest was punctuated with angry nightmares, and every hour, he found himself sitting upright, breathing hard. After four hours, he got up and showered. He forced down four pieces of peanut butter toast, reasoning that he would probably forget to eat again any time soon, and drank coffee like it was water.

It made sense to go back to the hospital. He should sit there with the rest of them, and talk in soft tones, waiting for McGee to wake so they could soothe and comfort him, but the rage in his body demanded release. He strapped on his sig, attached a 22 to his ankle and headed out. For a while, he only drove around the park. No good could come out of acting in this state of mind. When inertia threatened an explosion, he pulled over and started walking.

His cell rang several times but ignored it. It was Ducky and then it was Tony. They would know to anticipate his mood. For hours, he walked in the destroyed park, staring down drug dealers and pimps. No one approached him. Predators can always smell other predators, and Gibbs was radiating bad news.

He wanted to pull out the Sig and start demanding answers. He fantasized about grabbing dealers around the necks and ramming them up against the wall, his steely cold eyes inches from theirs while he barked out questions about T-bone, but this was not the time or the place. He undoubtedly would have ended the afternoon with a bullet in his back, leaving him no use to McGee or anyone else.

He'd rounded the 15-acre park for the 3rd time when he saw a familiar face sitting on the parking bench waiting patiently. It set his teeth on edge. He stopped 20 feet away, but didn't greet or acknowledge the man.

"You're scaring off the drug dealers. In the time, I've watched you circle this park, I've seen at least three illegal operations close up for the day. Metro oughta' hire you to take a regular Sunday stroll here."

Gibbs looked off in the distance. "It isn't just dealers and punks. Decent people live around here, and it's a crime that this area isn't patrolled better. I've seen one Metro cruiser in the last two hours."

"They're understaffed and overwhelmed."

"Yeah. Who called you in?"

Fornell shrugged. "First Ducky. Then DiNozzo."

"What do they expect you to do?"

"Be your friend."

Gibbs glared at him. "They tackled him, dragged him behind a building, nearly beat him to death, and when he gets to the hospital, all he can think is that I won't forgive him because he lost his badge and his gun. He goes back to the damn scene of the crime because he's afraid of disappointing me."

"He was in shock."

"He gave a witness statement to me, and I could barely look at him. I feel so damned guilty. Why does he still look like he's 25 years old?"

Fornell got up and started walking the park with Gibbs. "Because his face is as smooth as a baby's bottom."

"No, it's his sweetness. Eight years doing hardcore law enforcement and he's still kind and gentle. He suffers more than the rest of them. They were born for this. They're natural hunters. He has to work at it every day. He does what he does only because he wants to serve justice. He doesn't need it like the rest of us. It's so frickin' idealistic it drives me crazy."

Fornell nodded. "Yeah, that's McGee."

"It was his birthday two nights ago, and I didn't go to his party. I didn't go last year either. I go to all the other ones."

"I've always said you were a bastard."

Gibbs nodded. "And I kind of want him to think that about me. I'm not sure why."

Fornell was eyeing a man holding onto the arm of a young girl. He shook her roughly. "Wanna' beat up a pimp?"

"How about we just shoot him?" Gibbs said. The man looked in their direction and Gibbs pulled out his badge, making sure the gold in his shield caught the sunlight. Man let go of the girl, and she ran off down the sidewalk. Gibbs gestured with his head, and the man slunk away.

Fornell looked at him. "He needs you, Jethro."

"I know. I'm trying as hard as I can. I'm harder on him than I am on the others. You know, Tobias, sometimes, I think I'm trying to toughen him so that he'll survive this work better."

"Yeah, I can see that."

Gibbs sighed. "They don't think I care enough, but the truth is that it's eating me up inside. I really do care about him just as much as I do the others. I need that sweet kid to be okay."

Tobias patted him on the back. "But you won't let anyone know the truth of it. You're a complicated man, Jethro."

His cell rang again and this time he picked it up. "What's going on, Abs?...Okay, I'm on my way. Tell him to stay out of McGee's room."

"McGee okay?"

"McCadden from Metro is there and wants to interview McGee. He could barely get through a statement with me. McCadden needs to hold off."

…..

The coffeehouse was crowded, but she wasn't hard to spot. She was the one sitting alone at the back of the room. She didn't look up from her laptop even when he was standing a few feet in front of her. He smiled. She was such a McGee. "Sarah?"

She looked up at him and panic registered on her face. "Oh God! Tell me he's not dead."

"No! I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't think. He's okay. Well…he's not great. Uh, he had a car accident, but he's alright."

She deflated. "I called him three times. I didn't worry right away. He gets wrapped up in his writing sometimes, and he doesn't hear the phone. Then I saw you and I thought…"

Tony sat down across her. "He got banged up pretty good. He's going to be at Bethesda for a few more days."

"Has he called Mom and Dad?"

Tony shifted in his seat. "He'd prefer not to bother them just now."

"Yeah, he's like that. Never wants to make a fuss. You sure he's not in danger?"

"Nothing life threatening. I promise you."

"I want to go see him."

"Sarah, can you wait a day? He's mostly sleeping right now. He's on quite a bit of pain medication. I think he can appreciate your presence a little more tomorrow."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're lying to me about something."

"Seriously, it's exactly what he asked me to say. I'm going back. I'll call you if there's anything to know. Promise."

She sat back in her chair. "Something's not right."

Tony looked away. "Sarah, I need you to trust me. Tim is going to be okay. If he were in any danger, I would be pulling you out of here right now. I promise."

"Okay. I'm coming tomorrow right after classes."

He reached over and squeezed her hand. "Good girl! Give him time to feel a little better. He'll be happy to see you."

….

Gibbs found McCadden in a chair outside McGee's room. "DiNozzo told you that I would interview him."

The detective stood up. "I have my own questions."

"He's hopped on medication. Right now, I'm the intermediary."

"Not good enough, Gibbs. McGee isn't Navy personnel. It's not an NCIS case."

Gibbs nodded. "Listen up. He's not lucid. You can't see him."

McCadden got up. "I talk to him tomorrow or I arrest him as a material witness. These are your choices."

Gibbs didn't say anything as McCadden disappeared down the hallway. He wasn't going to be able to protect McGee from Metro. It was, by all rights, their case, and McGee was going to have to suffer the indignities that all crime victims did when forced to share their trauma with strangers.

He got up and opened McGee's door softly. The lighting was dim in the room. Abby was sitting in a chair next to the bed resting her head on the mattress, her hand interlaced with his. She looked up when Gibbs entered. "He's sleeping again."

Gibbs nodded.

Her hair was tied back in a single ponytail, her face clear of all make-up. "He's had a rough day. They're giving him less medication so he doesn't hallucinate, but it means he feels the pain. It's impossible for him to move at all without terrible pain. He's been just miserable. Keeps asking where you are."

He closed his eyes. "I…uh, just…well, I'm here now. I can relieve you."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him."

"Abs, you need to rest."

"I'm just fine. Gibbs, this is where I belong…with him."

Gibbs' face softened. "I've waited years for you to say that."

She bit her lip. "It's scary."

He put his hands on her shoulders and massaged her gently. "It's always scary when it's the real thing."

She smiled up at him and he leaned over, whispering in her ear. "Just remember that it's going to take a while for him to feel safe again. He's not going to be McGee again for a while."

She nodded, her eyes wet.

He sat down in a chair in the corner of the room. "How about we both sit with him?"

….

"We have phones now! I know you understand them. I've seen you operate one on numerous occasions. What did you think? Did you think you had the weekend to put him back together and then nobody would have to know?"

Gibbs sat in the waiting room and took it. Usually a fight with Vance had him nose to nose with the man, but there wasn't one damn thing Vance said that he didn't agree with and he was exhausted after a night of McGee howling through his nightmares. He waited until the Director had said his piece. "We need in on the investigation. I need it to be a joint task force. I need Metro to understand that, for now, only my team has access to McGee."

Leon Vance sighed deeply and sat. "The trauma's bad?"

"He had nightmares all night. He's ashamed, embarrassed. He can't let go of the idea that I'm disappointed in him."

"Should I see him? I want to tell him the whole agency's behind him."

"How many work visitors did you want when you were in the hospital after you got shot? He looks bad. Feels helpless. He doesn't want you to see him like this."

Vance nodded. "Yeah. I wondered. Metro's not going to be a problem. The commissioner owes me. I pulled his butt out of a situation about a year ago. The only problem I see is you and your version of vigilante justice. Do not make this a bigger mess than it already is."

"We do this by the book."

"I'm pulling your team from the roster for the time being. I want daily updates, and if he wants to see me, I will be here within the hour. And make no mistake, the minute that boy is on his feet, I'm calling in the Incident Response Team. He's going to need some professional help."

Gibbs nodded. "I should have called you earlier, Leon. I don't know where my head was."

"Well, you look a little traumatized yourself. Might want to think about that some."

…..

"Tony!"

DiNozzo held the elevator for Gibbs.

"How was your day, Boss?"

"Asked Balboa's team to try and track that kid, Devon. They were completely useless. Kept asking me questions about how I wanted them to accomplish that. Ya' give McGee a task like that, and he writes some kind of computer program, and, poof, we find what we need. Balboa's people are amateurs compared to McGee."

"Yeah," Tony said and then gestured to the dark haired young woman next to him. "You remember Sarah. I just picked her up to come and see Tim."

Startled, Gibbs looked around Tony. "Sarah, sorry I didn't see you. How are you?"

She nodded. "Good. I'm in grad school now."

"Writing the next great American novel?"

She smiled. "Poetry right now. I have two published in an anthology coming out in the spring."

Gibbs nodded. "Terrific. Tim will have to tell us where to buy a copy."

"Ah, Boss, Sarah here was asking how long Tim might have to stay in the hospital after his accident."

"Accident?" Gibbs' brow furrowed.

"Yeah, Tim asked me to tell her about the car accident."

Gibbs looked up at the ceiling. The Sarah McGee he'd met all those years ago was far too intelligent to be fooled long by such a story. "I imagine he'll be out in a couple of days. Is McCadden meeting us here?"

Tony turned to Sarah. "We're doing a joint investigation with Metro police regarding the car that slammed into Tim's car…and then sped away."

"Okay. I didn't realize it happened like that." She wore a confused expression on her face. "The reason I'm asking about his stay is that he hates hospitals. He can't sleep. He must be pretty banged up if he lasted three days here."

The elevator doors opened and they filed out. They found an exhausted Abby resting her head on Bert outside McGee's door. She popped open a green eye when she heard them approaching.

"Is the doctor in with McGee?"

"No, Detective McCadden is."

"What!" Gibbs pushed through the door. Tony gestured for Sarah to wait before following on his heels.

McCadden was sitting next to McGee's bed when Gibbs accosted him. "I thought I told you to stay away from McGee!"

McGee looked up, still lying on his side. "Boss, calm down. I invited him in."

McCadden stood up. "Yeah, McGee here thought it was a good idea to actually collaborate with the police unlike his boss and his partner."

"We were just going over my story. I'm afraid it was so dark that I'm not sure I can identify anyone in a lineup, but I'm willing to try."

Gibbs shook his head. "Tim, I wanted to protect you from having to share the story too many times."

"You didn't want me to be humiliated and I appreciate that, but I guess I'm going to get used to it because from now on, I'm always going to be that stupid, drunk NCIS agent that got brutalized in Prescott Park."

Gibbs softened. "It's not going to be like that."

Tim sighed. "I want to go home."

"Ducky will talk to your doctor."

"I just need a bottle of pills, and then I can go home and be alone. That's what I want!"

"Not going to happen like that, Tim!"

McCadden's eyebrows rose. "Okay, I have a statement now so I think I'll go. Look forward to working with my NCIS buddies. What say we meet up in the morning and compare notes?"

"Our house: 8 a.m." DiNozzo growled.

"Sure, you just let me know when the actual collaborating starts. In the meantime, I'll just deal with you treating me like one of your probies." He stomped out before anyone could respond.

McGee frowned. "Why are you treating McCadden like that?"

"Did you know that two years ago he said I deserved a better geek than you?"

McGee screwed up his face. "Are you kidding! You insult me worse most days of the week."

"It's different 'cause you're my friend, probie, and partner," Tony said and then frowned at his own response.

Gibbs gestured. "Sarah's here. Are you sure you don't want her to know the truth?"

"What I tell my sister is my business, Boss."

"You're right about that."

McGee winced. "I'm not very patient right now. I'm sorry. I just want to go home. I don't like hospitals. When I was kid and I had my car accident, I had to be in the hospital for over a month. I really hated it."

"You're not ready to go home. You can't even sit up."

McGee closed his eyes. "Please help me convince Abby to go home for the night. She's exhausted and I'm really not a nice guy right now."

"I'll stay with you tonight."

Tim shook his head. "No Boss, you go home too. I really just want to be alone, and since I can't have that, I'll let Sarah babysit. It'll be nice to spend time with someone who doesn't know what happened."

"You sure?"

"Please."

"Okay, Tim. You call the shots."

McGee sighed. "If only that were true."

Gibbs studied him. McGee was definitely lucid but frustration and anger were taking over. Combine that with the pain and the trauma, and McGee was hardly the same man they knew a mere four days ago. "I'll send Abby in to say good-bye."

McGee nodded.

DiNozzo cocked his head. "I'll stay if you want to talk. You can be as crabby as you want and it won't bother me a bit."

"Take a raincheck? I feel trapped right now. Not good for anyone."

"You think Sarah can take it?"

"You've never seen her in a bad mood before. Trust me. She can handle my mood."

The door opened and Abby crept in, wearing a frown. Tony kissed her on the cheek and left. "You don't want me here anymore?"

Tim reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "I just want you to rest. You need a break."

"It's not something I did?"

"The only time in the last couple of days that I've felt good is when I've see your face."

She leaned over and buried her face in his neck. "Then I'll stay."

He shook his head. "I need space, Abs. I'm so mixed up inside. I need time to think."

She leaned forward, her face inches from his. "Don't push us away."

His mouth twitched but he said nothing. Finally, she sighed and stood up. "I'm going to be back here in the morning, and I don't care if you want to see me or not. You hear me?"

…..

His cell rang and he instinctively looked at the clock. It was 6:30 a.m. Gibbs cursed and sat up. The events over the last few days had worn him down and now he'd overslept. He planted the cell on his face. "What?"

"It's Sarah, Sarah McGee." He could hear ragged, panicked breathing. "Tim didn't have a car accident, did he?"

"Where are you? What's happening?"

Her voice shook. "I'm at Tim's apartment and I think I made a terrible mistake. Can you come?"

…

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter is really about Gibbs and McGee. I hope that their struggles with themselves and with one another make sense to you. Let me know your thoughts. Sheila

Grand Canyon Deep

Chapter 4

…..

He found Sarah pacing in front of Tim's apartment. When she saw him, she exhaled deeply, her eyes teary. "I didn't know what else to do."

Gibbs shook his head. "He got here under his own power?"

She was shaking "I told you that he really hates hospitals. By midnight last night, he had me convinced he wasn't going to rest until he went home. Nurses protested, but he was insistent. It took him almost half an hour to dress himself and he walked like an old man. I should have known then. He wouldn't wait for a doctor to discharge him or anything. We got here and I could tell that the pain was really bad. He took 4-5 Tylenol and would have taken more, but I hid the bottle. Then he started drinking wine. He couldn't sit and he wouldn't undress. He asked me to go get his mail and when I came back the door was locked and the keys to his Porsche were in the hallway. I can't keep pounding on the door or the neighbors will call the police, and then he'll be embarrassed, and, um, Tim is really sensitive, and I thought if I called you—"

He patted her back. "Sarah, where is your key to his apartment?"

"I left it in my other purse at home. Can you pick the lock?"

He gestured with his head. "I got something better than that."

Ziva came striding down the hall, pulling a key out of her purse. Sarah sighed. "Thank God!"

Ziva looked at Gibbs. "You know how McGee is about his privacy."

"It's necessary."

She nodded and turned the key in the lock. Gibbs pushed through the door. Inside, the lights were off. He stepped on something slippery and stepped back. It was vomit. There was an empty wine bottle on the table. He shook his head at Ziva. She followed him into McGee's bedroom. Tim lay on his side, fully clothed; a sour smell was emanating from his clothing. Gibbs turned on the light and McGee blinked furiously.

"So this is better than a hospital, Tim?"

McGee didn't say anything. He just stared at the wall in front of him. Gibbs noted that there was more vomit on the floor by the bed. He stepped around it. Then he saw a glint of steel under McGee's pillow. He sat on the bed slowly and reached over, pulling a 5-inch hunting blade out from under McGee's head.

McGee blinked at him. "Protection."

Gibbs nodded. "Well, you don't want to sleep on an open blade. We'll have to find something that folds up."

McGee's eyes were red. "Don't take me back."

"You're not ready to be home."

"I won't go back."

"Ducky's on his way. He'll evaluate you."

McGee closed his eyes. "I want to be alone."

"You have to be patient, McGee."

Tim's eyes darted around the room. Ziva pointed. "Right there. It's the second time you've glanced at your nightstand. What are you hiding?"

Gibbs reached over and opened the drawer. He slowly pulled out a handgun. He checked the chambers. It was fully loaded. He looked up at Ziva. "It's Israeli made."

She nodded. "I gave it to Tim for Christmas last year. He didn't have a back up weapon."

Gibbs looked at McGee. "I've never seen this before."

McGee wouldn't look at him. "I don't bring it to work. It's not NCIS issue."

"That's too bad. It's a nice little piece. What do you have it in the drawer for?"

"Protection."

Gibbs nodded. "Fully loaded."

Ziva shook her head. "It wasn't the last time I was here. Tim, you told me that you were afraid it would get into the wrong hands. You keep the bullets…."

She got up and ran out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a small box of bullets. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. "I found these spilled on the kitchen counter next to a wine glass."

Tim shook his head. "No, Ziva, it's not what you think. I promise you. I would never…"

"Really?" Gibbs glared at him. "One, maybe two bottles of wine, and eating your gun might seem like exactly the right thing to do. Is that what you were thinking!"

"No!" Tim was looking past Gibbs to Sarah who stood in his doorway, a shaking hand over her mouth. "I would never do it. Believe me, Sarah, I promise. I just got angry and the Tylenol didn't even touch the pain, but I promise you—"

Gibbs emptied the bullets and threw them against the wall. "And you want to be alone?"

McGee rubbed his eyes. "I didn't…I wouldn't…Sarah, please believe me."

She laced her fingers together in an attempt to control her trembling. "You lied to me about your accident. I don't know what happened, but I know that you didn't get hit by a car. And then you lock me out of your apartment and you load a gun. Oh my God, Tim, I don't understand anything!"

"You would do that to your sister, to Ziva, to Tony! Huh? What about Abby! It would destroy her!"

"Gibbs, stop it!" Ziva wasn't sure whether to confront him or comfort Sarah.

McGee glared at him. "You've never been that desperate? Ever? After your wife and daughter died, you didn't think…."

"We're not talking about me, McGee."

McGee pulled himself up on his elbows. "Why? Why are we never talking about you? You don't think it might help me right now to know that you aren't invincible?"

Gibbs threw up his hands. "Why bother? You're ready to give up. It's been four days and you're all ready to pack it in."

"Gibbs!" Ziva caught his arm. "Enough! He needs to have a real conversation and you're denying him that! It's wrong."

"He was going to kill himself, Ziva!"

Ziva ignored him and turned to McGee. "Tim, for me, it was only 24 hours after you all brought me home from Somalia."

"Ziva?"

"I tasted my gun every day for a week."

Tears rolled down his face. "I'm so sorry! We were idiots not to know. What were we thinking?"

She sat down on the bed beside him and stroked his face. "It's okay. I'll tell you everything, and then you'll know the truth. It's okay to be frightened."

She looked up at Gibbs. "You need to take Sarah and go. There's a coffee shop at the corner of the block."

Gibbs seemed paralyzed.

"Gibbs! McGee and I need to talk. Right now, this is not a conversation you know how to have. Please go!"

He nodded. "I'm sorry. You're right, Ziva. I'm sorry, McGee."

Sarah stepped up and took his arm. "Come on, Agent Gibbs. We need to let them talk."

…..

He held the cup tightly hoping she wouldn't notice the slight tremor in his extremities. She looked up from her latte. "Will you tell me what happened to him?"

"It's his story, Sarah, and he asked me not to, but you deserve to know that he wasn't in a car accident. He was beaten and it was really bad."

"I saw the welts on his back." She looked away. "The truth is that I'm not sure I can handle knowing more."

"He'll be okay, Sarah."

"I've never seen him like that. I didn't imagine it was possible for him to think about…it's not the Tim I know."

He looked down into his coffee, feeling the aromatic steam on his face. "It's possible for even the strongest person to get that despondent. I've been there."

She looked puzzled. "He wanted you to tell him that. He was begging for that."

"I know."

"What's wrong with you? He…worships you. I've never heard him say a negative word about you."

Gibbs nodded. "That's sounds like your brother. I work him too long, too hard, expect too much, never thank him enough, and he never complains."

She narrowed her eyes. "You didn't answer my question."

He looked up at the ceiling. "I need him to be angry, Sarah. I need him to be angry with someone beside himself. Anger has always been a motivating factor in my life. I can't seem to trigger the same response in your brother."

She threw her arms up in the air. "Because he's not you, Gibbs! He's different! He's a driven scientist, but he's also a sensitive artist. The point I'm trying to make here is that setting yourself up to be the bad guy is not going to motivate a man like him. You are his barometer, his teacher. He needs you to help him navigate this."

"My instincts on this have been bad since the beginning."

"I'll tell you this. While, he's never complained about you to me, he does question his importance to you."

Gibbs nodded. "We solve cases in new ways because of him. His brilliance and tenacity have invaluable to us."

She leaned forward. "But what if you really lost him. What if a bullet took him like it took Kate? Would you grieve… as a person, not just as someone losing a valuable asset?"

He stared at his cooling coffee for a long moment. Finally, he whispered. "I would be like a man who lost his son."

She cocked her head trying to catch his downturned face. "Why do deny him that knowledge? Do you deny Tony that too? What about Ziva? I know Abby is secure in that knowledge that you love her."

Gibbs looked up and saw Tony walking up. "How is he?"

"Ducky's looking him over."

"Can we come back?"

Tony nodded. "He's pretty desperate to talk to Sarah. Ziva says you should come right away."

She scrapped her chair back, grabbed her bag, and took off. Tony took her vacated chair.

"He doesn't want to see me?"

"I don't know what happened, Boss, but Ziva was pretty heated. She wants me to remind you that he didn't have the gun out when you arrived. She believes that he'd already made the right decision before you got there. Says he needs to be given credit for that." Tony looked shaky. "Boss, did you really believe…you don't think he'd do something…"

Gibbs sighed. "I overreacted."

"I wasn't there, but that's the general consensus."

"Did you see Tim?"

Tony swallowed and shook his head. "Ziva would only let Ducky in the bedroom."

"We should go back up there."

Tony didn't say anything.

"Don't worry. I'll stay in the living room. I'm beginning to realize I'm not helping the situation."

…

Gibbs and DiNozzo sat side by side on the futon that McGee used as a couch in his cramped living room. They spent half an hour cleaning the mess McGee left on the floor, and now they waited silently for Ducky to emerge from the bedroom. When he did, Ducky barely acknowledged them.

Gibbs studied him. "Does he stay or go back to the hospital?"

"He stays. A home health nurse will visit twice a day, and the rest of the time, we take shifts…everyone that is except you."

Gibbs nodded. "I'm not surprised."

"He needed understanding, Jethro, not anger and accusations."

"Agreed. Please tell him again that I'm sorry."

Ducky headed into the kitchen, his voice carrying. "Tell him yourself. He wants to talk to you."

Gibbs closed his eyes. "I keep screwing it up, making it worse."

Ducky poked his head around the corner. "You can hurt his feelings, Jethro, but you can't break him. He's amazingly strong."

Tony nudged him. "You can do it, Boss. You've always wanted the best for Tim. Don't be such a statue. Tell him something real. He deserves that from you."

Sarah and Ziva were sitting on the bed with McGee when he entered. The room smelled fresh and McGee was lying on the bed in a loose t-shirt and boxers. The window was open, and the room was a lot fresher smelling than it had been earlier. Ziva gave Gibbs a hard look before getting up and leaving. Sarah McGee got up and left him speechless when she walked up to him, reached up, and kissed him on his cheek. Gibbs blinked and froze.

Sarah closed the door behind her. McGee looked up at him. "She's often unexpected in her reactions. Surprises me all the time."

Gibbs closed his eyes.

"Boss, you apologized earlier. Never heard you do that before. It's a sign of weakness, you know."

Gibbs shook his head and focused on McGee. "I meant it, Tim. I've been trying so hard, but I keep getting it wrong. I'm not helping."

McGee nodded. "I've gotten stubborn myself. Manipulating Sarah into bringing me home was not my best moment."

Gibbs nodded.

"I wouldn't have pulled the trigger, Boss. I knew how wrong it was the moment I felt the gun on my temple….And I am sorry…I was wrong to let it go that far."

"I know what that feels like. I was too angry to share that with you earlier, but I got closer than that maybe 50 times in my life…after I lost Shannon and Kelly."

"I'm sorry, Boss."

Gibbs sighed. "You always forgive me so quickly, Tim. I'm hard on you and I know you feel it, but you never show it. You always give me a pass."

McGee winced. "Is that wrong?"

"I don't know, Tim," Gibbs said. "There's a well of forgiveness in you deeper than I've ever experienced. I keep pushing to find the bottom of it, but it doesn't seem to have one. I don't deserve the grace you are constantly offering me."

McGee shook his head. "Getting mad doesn't work. Forgiving you doesn't work. I can never get it right with you, Boss."

"Good! That's what I deserve!"

"Really? This is what you want from me?" McGee's face clouded.

"You deserve better from me and it's about time you let me know that."

"Why? Why do you need this so badly?" McGee looked teary.

Gibbs grabbed his hand. "It's self preservation, Tim! It's what's going to see you through this trauma. Don't you understand? Fight for what you deserve!"

Tim squeezed Gibbs' hand back. "You are not the enemy. You're just trying to teach me."

"I'm unfair to you!"

"You're trying to toughen me."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "I'm never going to be the bad guy to you, am I?"

"No, you're not. Maybe, this should be less about why I don't resent you, and why you're need me to be angry."

"What!"

"You're a ball of rage, but I get the feeling it's about you, not me."

"I'm angry about what happened to you!"

"Okay." McGee closed his eyes. "The shot Ducky gave me has really got me sleepy. Looks like you and I are going to have a break from these illuminating power struggles for a few days."

"I'm going to get these guys for you, McGee."

"I know, Boss," he murmured into the pillow.

Gibbs squeezed his hand again, but McGee was sleeping now, and his hand had gone limp. For a while, he just sat there and watched his youngest agent. The boy was right. His own self loathing was threatening to overwhelm him. Finally, Gibbs got up and without a word to his team gathered outside, he walked out of McGee's apartment.

…..

It was dark when he got home. Balboa's people had narrowed down the name Devon to three children in the D.C. school district within a reasonable distance to Prescott Park. Tomorrow, Gibbs was going back to school. DiNozzo called him three times but Gibbs ignored all of them. Right now, he needed a break from all of them.

He opened his front door and noted the well-lit living room. He walked into the kitchen and put down a six pack of Newcastle on the counter. The smell of take-out Chinese wafted in the air. He opened two of the Newcastle, and settled down at the table. Dr. Rachel Cranston smiled at him from the chair across from his. "I like my food spicy."

He shrugged. "I can take whatever you can dish out."

"Okay," she watched him carefully. "Why don't we start with why you feel like you're just as much a predator in McGee's life as T-bone, the gang banger who assaulted him?"

…

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Another long chapter. Gibbs and McGee are taking separate journeys for the time being. I hope all the feelings and motivations resonate for you. I love hearing about what works and even what doesn't work. Sheila

Chapter 5

Grand Canyon Deep

Dr. Rachel Cranston sat back on the couch and waited. Gibbs was clearly warring with himself. He couldn't seem to settle himself enough to really talk. Currently, he was busying himself with kitchen cleanup.

She sighed. "Do you want me to come back another time?"

"Nope," she heard from the kitchen.

"Okay then, let's start with you not showing up at his birthday party. Explain that to me."

He looked around the corner at her and frowned. "I never told you that."

"Ducky called and ranted about you earlier today."

Gibbs appeared in the room. "Does he know you're here?"

She shook her head. "Confidentiality."

"I was busy."

"No, you weren't. Sit down already. You weren't busy. You already told Ducky you didn't go on purpose."

Gibbs sighed. "It doesn't matter. He always forgives me anyway."

"A sign of weakness?"

Gibbs looked down at the floor and chose his words carefully. "I'll know he's strong enough when he learns to fight back. He never fights back."

Rachel nodded. "So you provoke him."

"Just an occasional uppercut to the jaw. I keep waiting for him to hit back."

"Because that's what you would do."

"Right."

"He's not you, Gibbs."

"I'm reminded of that constantly now. It started when I found him in that courtyard, holding a pipe. The look on his face…"

"Good. Take me there. What did you see on his face?"

Gibbs frowned as he concentrated on the memory. "Total despair. Shock. Pain."

"It triggered something in you. Have you seen that look before?"

He shook his head. "Never."

"Come on, Gibbs. You brought me here. What did that look remind you of?"

He looked at the wall behind her and concentrated. "The day I came back to the states after finding out that Shannon and Kelly were murdered. I was washing my face in the airport bathroom and I looked in the mirror. It was the same lost look."

"Describe it."

"You float through the day unaware of time or space. It sounds peaceful, but it isn't. You're filled with misery and pain. Your heart is broken, and the ache of it is impossibly deep."

"What happened to you is very different than what happened to McGee."

"I know but it bothered me that he had access to something so raw; even in shock, he knew that his life would never be the same. I saw that in his face, and it felt like a knife in my gut."

"You weren't angry at him?"

"I wanted to cry for him," Gibbs said softly.

"But you didn't."

"It wouldn't have done him a bit of good. I needed to wake him from his shock, get him thinking and feeling again."

"Is that what worked for you?"

Gibbs smiled. "That's how I met Mike Franks. He was working the case. He let me tag along. Kept me in line. Bullied me until I was so angry I didn't have time to think about dying…"

Rachel nodded. "So you turned into Mike Franks for McGee."

Gibbs nodded. "Maybe. I guess I thought it was best."

"But McGee has physical injuries. He needs to heal before he can be whipped into shape. Don't you think?"

He grimaced and she sighed. "My metaphor sucks but you get the point."

He nodded. "My instincts were bad. I wanted so badly to help, and I ended up doing the opposite."

"So now you realize that McGee is not you, and that becoming Franks isn't doing him any favors. Your sense memories of your own trauma don't help you help McGee."

"Yeah."

She leaned forward. "But instead of learning and moving on, you've become more and more angry…at yourself."

"Outside of Kelly, he's probably the sweetest kid I've ever known. Everything I've done in the last four days has been harmful."

She shook her head. "Not true."

"The team has banned me from his apartment."

"Because you need time to pull your emotions together. You have to separate out what's you and what's McGee. Right now, you're all over the map."

He looked away.

"You're not a monster, Gibbs. McGee knows that and he's no fool. You think you're all shouting and misplaced anger, but he also knows that you want nothing but the best for him. He's used to that kind of dichotomy. His father's like that, Gibbs. Did you know that?"

He sighed. "I always suspected. The fact that Tim didn't end up a Navy officer like his father, but still works for the Navy. The seasickness. The willingness to endure anything I throw at him. He seems well trained at chasing unreasonable expectations."

She pointed at him. "You just said it, Gibbs. McGee endures. He doesn't fight, he doesn't hunt, but he endures. He never gives up. That's his strength. He doesn't forgive you because he's weak; he forgives you because he forever has the capacity to believe in your goodness. It's not delusional. It's who he is and you can't take it away from him. He's far too strong for that."

Gibbs felt heat rise in his cheeks. "He forgives me because he's too strong to give up."

"Exactly!"

"I'm idiot."

She shrugged. "Maybe, but he needs you. The question isn't whether or not he'll survive this. He'll live. The question is whether or not he'll survive this and still be sweet, gentle McGee. It would be a shame to have too much of his goodness stolen from him. Don't you think?"

Gibbs swallowed. "That would be a tragedy, Rachel. A real tragedy."

…..

He was yelling for help again. Tony sat up on the futon, and waited for McGee to wake up and realize he was dreaming. He wanted run in there but McGee preferred to work through it himself. He didn't like people hovering over him, and Tony could appreciate that.

The noise stopped and he heard the bed creak and knew that McGee was sitting up. Tony lay quietly and waited. The bed creaked some more and McGee was on his feet. It was time for the pacing to start again. It was all he could do to stay on the futon. He wanted to jump up and talk to him, calm him, get him to relax and consider sleep again, but McGee wasn't being coddled these days.

Finally, the footsteps came in his direction, and that thin face with the big eyes was peering down at him. Tony smiled. "Hey McGee. Not sleeping again, I see."

"I woke you."

"I don't mind, Timster. I was hoping you'd come out."

"Did you bring movies?"

Tony nodded. "Don't leave home without them."

"Hunt for Red October?"

"Are you kidding? Your favorite thriller. Of course, I have it."

McGee sighed. "That movie never grows old for me."

"Which character are you?"

"Huh?"

"Come on. Which character are you? I'm Alec Baldwin/Jack Ryan."

"I'm guess I'm Captain Bart Mancuso of the U.S.S. Dallas."

"Strong, silent type. Wearing a side arm. Playing chicken with Tupolov. I like it."

McGee nodded and leaned against the doorframe waiting for Tony to pop it in. Tony got up and motioned at the chair that he and Ducky fashioned for McGee. "Come on, Tim. Try and sit. We added loads of soft foam. And there's a nice rubber donut here. Ducky says it's time to put a little pressure on your backside."

McGee regarded it suspiciously but didn't balk when Tony led him by the arm. "I'm going to ease you in. Ducky says it might sting a bit, but just wait it out. Your hips have got to be tired of supporting your weight when you lie down. Ducky's worried that you'll get bed sores from lying on your side all the time."

McGee winced as he was lowered into the chair. For a few moments, he struggled to hide his discomfort, but finally the pain on his face eased. He turned to Tony. "Thank you."

"Anything for you."

Tony watched Tim as much as the movie, and it only took about 30 minutes before he was sleeping again. Tony snuck into his bedroom and grabbed a pillow and a blanket. He tucked the blanket in around Tim and supported his head with the pillow. Then he lay down and drifted off as American and Soviet submarines battled on the high seas.

….

The elementary school principal leaned against the wall, her arms folded. "I don't mind telling you that I don't like this."

"He was a witness to a crime."

The African American woman snorted. "Every kid in this neighborhood has witnessed a crime at one time or another. What makes this one different?"

"It happened to a…friend of mine."

She sighed. "Someone not from the neighborhood. Someone who didn't deserve T-Bone style treatment…unlike the people around here who never get relief from his brutality."

He met her eyes straight on. "The fact that this man and his gang have been allowed to terrorize this neighborhood without intervention is a travesty. It needs to stop and I think I'm the man to do it."

She raised her chin. "What makes you special?"

"I'm a law man and a marine, and I can be as mean as any killer I've put away. I don't back down. He hurt one of my people. That will not go unanswered."

She sat down across from him. "The boy is special. If you're mean enough to trample over him on your way to T-bone, it isn't worth it. You think you're tough? You're talking to a woman who had her first baby at fifteen. Raised six on welfare and still got a masters degree. All of the children in this school belong to me. You hurt that boy, and you'll have to answer to me."

Gibbs nodded. "The boy saved my friend's life. I'll keep him safe."

She shook her head. "Have no idea how you're going to manage that. He lives with a drug-addicted sister. Dad's dead and Mom disappeared years ago. Devon shows up to school maybe 3 days out of every 6."

"What about foster care?"

"No, he won't leave his sister. He's run from every family they've ever placed him with and he's only ten years old. Boy is smart in a way I haven't seen in years. His math aptitude is off the charts."

"Mrs. Watkins, I promise you that I'll watch him."

"I'm staying in the room while you question him."

"Then I better be able to trust you too."

She shook her head and chuckled as she stood. "You better be more than a good-looking white man. That's all I can say."

He waited while she went to find Devon. The boy she brought in saw Gibbs and he visibly squirmed. Mrs. Watkins gestured for Devon to sit.

"Do you remember me, Devon?" Gibbs asked.

The boy said nothing.

"I plan to stop T-Bone from hurting people, but I'm going to need your help."

Devon shook his head. "I don't know nothing."

Gibbs leaned forward. "I know you saved my friend's life. I know you untied him. His name is Tim and he's really grateful to you."

Devon looked down at the table and whispered. "You're going to get me killed, Mister."

Gibbs tried to catch his eyes. "Never, Devon. I want to help you. I owe you big time."

Devon wouldn't look at him.

"You don't trust me. I understand that, but I can get you and your sister out of this neighborhood. I can find a safe place for the two of you. I can get your sister into treatment."

Devon turned sharply to look at Mrs. Watkins. She walked over and put her hands on his shoulders. "Those are a lot of fancy promises you're making, Agent Gibbs. Promises are just words though."

He nodded. "I know. I don't want to push you. Talk to Mrs. Watkins about it."

Devon looked at her and she nodded.

"Devon, can you tell me something small? Nothing from that night, but something that lots of people know; something that might help us know him better."

Devon let out a deep breath. "Around the neighborhood, people say that he likes to wear the belt he uses on people. He does it to scare people. Some of his posse do the same thing."

"That's good, Devon. That's real good. It's important information, and it's something that can't be traced back to you."

"Can you really help my sister? She got kicked out of treatment last time so the county won't pay for her to go again."

"I'll find the best treatment money can buy, Devon. I promise you that."

Mrs. Watkins glared at him. "You're making a lot of promises. You better be good for them."

"I know how to deliver, Mrs. Watkins. You can count on that."

…

McGee squinted into the sun. It was a beautiful day in the park. Ziva nudged him. "A nickel for your thoughts."

He didn't correct her malapropism. He just squirmed on the blanket. "I can't believe I have to sit on a rubber donut."

"There's a blanket on top. No one can see. It is good to feel the sun, no?"

"It is."

"You didn't sleep well last night."

He looked at her, dark circles under his eyes. "When did you start to sleep through the night?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't much before Somalia, and I still sleep in fits and starts. I think it is how I am built. But I don't have so many nightmares anymore."

"It had to have been horrible to be violated so many times."

"I was numb, McGee. It was always Saleem, and I only remember the first couple of times."

He nodded and then stared off at some kids playing with a football.

She took a breath. "It is the most effective psychological weapon possible. It's something that reaches into your soul, and steals your safety and…it deposits such…rage. And then after the attacker is gone, you use all of that rage to attack yourself. It is like your fears pick up where the attacker left off…I really don't have words…to better describe it."

"I was sodomized with a lead pipe. Is that rape?"

She leaned against his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't know. Does it matter?"

"Every time I close my eyes, I feel the helplessness and the fear. I'm trapped and there's nothing in front of me but pain. They stole my dignity, Ziva. They made me feel weak and small."

She nodded into his shoulder. "You're a man and I'm a woman. Mossad prepared me for the eventuality of rape. I expected it the first time Saleem came into my cell. Men are unprepared. You never imagined this, did you?"

He shook his head. "No. Never."

"Perhaps, the shock of such unexpected torture makes it worse."

"Sometimes," he whispered. "I wondered if I'll ever stand as a man again."

She squeezed his arm tightly. "I want to tell you that this is foolish thinking, but we have promised to respect each other's story. I know you feel that way, but, to me, you are no less a man than you were a week ago. I don't know anyone who would say different."

He rested his head on top of hers, and the two of them sat silently for a time.

"Do you need more sunscreen, McGee?"

He lifted his head. "Are you my mother?"

She smiled. "No, but I have seen you with lobster skin before and it is not comfortable for you. You do not need added problems. Besides, Abby and Ducky will have words with me if I let you burn."

"In my backpack, you'll find SPF 75. Do what you want with me."

She pulled it out and squeezed some in her hand. Slowly, she rubbed it into his forehead, nose, and cheeks. Then she stopped and stared at him. Her mouth twitched and her eyes reddened.

He frowned. "What's wrong, Ziva?"

She let out a ragged sigh. "You're so important to me, Tim. You have always been my friend, but now you are also the one who knows my deepest secrets. I didn't know how much I needed someone who would listen to…those terrible memories."

Still sore, he could only stiffly pull her onto his chest. "I'll always be here for you. I love you, Ziva."

…..

"You sure about this?" McCadden asked from the backseat of the sedan.

"We take them now right in front of that taco shack."

A gang unit detective was leaning in the car window on his elbows. "It's bold, Man. I got a rep to protect with these guys."

Gibbs glared at him. "Well, God forbid we disrupt the trust you've established with gang members."

McCadden turned to Fornell. "What's got you interested in this?"

"Maybe, we can add some federal charges. You told Gibbs these guys might be running guns."

DiNozzo stared out the window. "Enough with the chatter. Let's do this already."

Gibbs nodded and both men opened their doors and got out. Fornell and McCadden piled out after them. The gang detective cursed, unholstered his weapon, and followed. Gibbs took the lead, walking straight at the man in the center of the group. He was a big man with light brown skin, a big afro, and hazel eyes. It wasn't clear his ethnicity. The man looked up and caught sight of Gibbs. He said something sharp, and everyone in the group turned their attention to the white man striding toward them.

Gibbs put a hand out and DiNozzo knew to stop short. Tony grabbed Fornell's arm and the FBI agent stopped as well. Gibbs ignored the threatening stances of the men around T-Bone. He kept his eyes focused on the big man, and he didn't stop moving until he was standing inches away from his face. T-Bone accepted the challenge, and glared back. "What you want?"

"I want you to know that this doesn't end until you're in jail or dead."

T-Bone shook his head and whistled. Around him his men laughed. "What did I do to you, old man?"

"Nothing. I just like to kill bugs and you're one big, nasty parasite."

T-Bone cocked his head. "I'd like to see how tough you'd act if you didn't have your little posse with you."

"I'm wondering the same thing about you."

T-Bone stepped forward. "Hey, if you want, we can arrange something, Daddy."

Gibbs didn't move a muscle as the oversized man loomed over him. Then the man put his hand on Gibbs' chest to push him and the marine reacted. A knee to the groin, arm twist, and chop to the neck, and T-Bone was kneeling on the concrete breathing like a locomotive with Gibbs leaning over his back.

The scene between Gibbs and T-Bone gave DiNozzo and company time to maneuver, and when Gibbs downed the big man, the agents and detectives all responded with weapons drawn. Soon T-Bone and all nine members of his posse were on the ground spread-eagle while McCadden and DiNozzo pulled belts and checked pockets for contraband. Fornell confiscated six guns, and DiNozzo gave McCadden four bags of blow. It was enough to drag them all downtown, and squads showed up to transport.

Gibbs saved T-Bone for last. The big man was still panting from being taken down by an older, smaller white man, and he watched Gibbs' every move. "I ain't forgettin' you, old man. You come back to my neighborhood and it's on."

Gibbs regarded him silently and then shook his head. "I expected you to be something more than a big, dumb bully."

DiNozzo pulled him toward the last squad, making sure that he tripped off the curb and landed hard on the side of the cruiser. "Yeah, sorry about that, Bone."

As the last car left, McCadden turned to Gibbs. "We can't hold them on this for long."

"We need a couple of days to get DNA off the belts."

McCadden sighed. "I hope to hell that's enough. I've seen the lawyers these guys hire. They have deep pockets, Gibbs."

Finally, it was just Gibbs and DiNozzo on the sidewalk in front of the taco shack. Tony pulled off his sunglasses. "You oughta' call Tim, Boss. Tell him that T-Bone's been picked up."

Gibbs looked away. "Not ready to talk to him yet. You call him."

"He doesn't want to hear it from me."

"He'll hear it from you. Right now, you're the best he's got." Gibbs started walking to the car.

"Boss…"

Gibbs turned and shook his head. "I'm not ready yet. Made too many mistakes before. Can't afford to do that again."

DiNozzo put his sunglasses back on and mumbled. "Avoiding him might be the biggest mistake of all."

…

He was feeling cornered again, and the danger surrounded him. He crouched and waited for the attack, and then it came from all sides at once. He howled and then there were hands on him, and he started fighting until he heard someone squeal his name. His eyes flew open and he found himself straddling a frightened Abby Scuito, his fist raised to hit her.

The fear drained from his body and his fist dropped to his side. She groaned and started massaging her jaw. Realization dawned on him. "Oh my God! I hit you, didn't I?"

She shook her head. "It's hardly anything, Timmy. You told me not to come in when you were sleeping, but I couldn't help myself."

He climbed out of bed and turned on the light. Then he knelt down and pulled her hand away. The left side of her jaw was red and already swelling. He cursed and got up, returning minutes later with an icepack. He directed her to turn over on her side and rest her jaw on the pack. Then he sat on the bed beside her, massaging her back. "Abby, there's a reason that I can't have you in bed with me when I'm sleeping. The nightmares. I am fighting for my life in my sleep. God, I am sorry, Abby."

She took his hand and looked up at him, noting the distress on his face. "I never listen. I always do what I want. You warned and I ignored you. I got exactly what I deserved."

McGee started to breath hard and his hands trembled. "You're wrong. Don't ever say that you deserve to be assaulted. Don't ever say that. You're my first love, the safest person in my life and I hit you! What's wrong with me, Abby?"

"Tim…"

He pulled away from her and got up. "You can't be here. It's not safe."

"Timmy, please!" She scrambled off the bed.

"Stay away from me!" His breathing quickened to the point of hyperventilating.

Abby ran out of the bedroom and grabbed her cell phone. McGee slammed the door to the bedroom behind her.

….

Abby was sitting on the futon clutching her knees tightly when Ducky finally came out. She looked up, her chin trembling. "Is he okay?"

"I gave him a sedative. He'll sleep well." Ducky sat down next to her and tenderly touched her swollen, purple jaw. "Open and close for me, my dear."

She groaned as she struggled to open and then close her mouth.

"Hmmm. I don't think you need an x-ray."

"It was all my fault, Ducky."

He gently moved her jaw to one side and then to the other. "Yes, my dear, I completely agree. You should've listened when he told you he had to sleep alone."

"At first, he was okay. Just sorry and a little pissed at me for not listening. Then he started to tremble and I got scared."

He probed her jawline with gentle fingers. "You told him that you deserved to get hit. Of course, you were trying to help, but it was a victim response. For him, it suddenly jumped from an accident to a predatory act on his part."

"Oh Ducky! I just made everything worse."

He clasped her hands tightly. "I have seen you mature quite a bit in the last week and a half, and I'm proud of you. But you're used to getting your way with Timothy, and that has to change. You feel deeply for him, and the best way to show that is to be more sensitive to what he needs from you."

She nodded.

"Go home now. I'll take your shift for the next couple of days."

"But—"

He put a finger to her lips. "It is what's best for Timothy, Abigail."

She slowly nodded, her eyes brimming with tears.

…..

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: The Penelope Papers was wonderful this week. I loved McGee's sweetness and vulnerability. While they are overdoing the daddy issues, I think McGee's daddy issues make the most sense of all. He's always played McGee as a guy used to chasing unreasonable expectations. This is a very Gibbs/McGee chapter and I hope it works. I am having trouble picturing McAbby in this story, but we'll see what happens. I have to trust my gut on this one. Let me know your thoughts as always. Sheila

Grand Canyon Deep

Chapter 6

It was 7 a.m. when Gibbs walked into the lab with a Caf-Pow. She had her back to him, and he could see 8 belts laid out on her table. She was taking meticulous samples from each. When she heard him, she instinctively turned her head and he saw how bruised the left side of her face was. He winced.

She came at him, shaking her head. "It was an accident and it was my fault."

He handed her the Caf-Pow. "Ducky called me."

"I should've listened to Tim."

He caught her jaw and she grimaced while he inspected it more closely. "Promise me he was sleeping."

She backed away. "How could you say that!"

"I trust McGee, but I believe that he's terribly angry and hurt right now. I just want to make sure that it was exactly as you said it was."

"He was sleeping, Gibbs, and don't you dare ever ask me anything like that again."

"Okay. I believe you." He gestured at the table. "I thought you weren't working this case."

"I promised you and McGee that I wouldn't look at crime scene photos and I haven't, but I am the best there is when it comes to pulling DNA off evidence, and I assume that you want the best on this case."

"What did you find?"

"A lot," she said. "Too much actually. Just like the pipe. Lots of fingerprints and DNA, but most of it smudged. I found 6 different sets of DNA on T-Bone's belt alone."

"Any of it McGee's?"

She shook her head. "I'm not done yet. Give me another day with this, and I'll be able to tell you a lot more."

Gibbs grew silent.

She cocked her head. "McGee would never hurt me. It was an accident."

He nodded. "I shouldn't have implied otherwise."

"Talk to him, Gibbs. He needs your guidance."

"Aren't you worried I'll screw it up again?"

She rolled her eyes. "He'll forgive almost everything, Gibbs…except maybe your absence."

…

"Duck, I'm at McGee's house and nobody's here." Gibbs barked into the phone.

"Yes, well it appears that he's out, Jethro."

"What the hell!"

"It's been almost five days since you've seen him. He's quite mobile now."

"I thought we weren't leaving him alone."

"After the 'incident' with Abby, he kicked us all out. Said he needed a couple of days to himself."

"You should've told me."

"Jethro, you had rather divorced yourself from the situation. I didn't see the point."

"Oh, that's cute, Duck. You and I will talk about this later." Gibbs hung up.

…..

He wore his jacket lapels up high. He'd been doing that for a couple of years now. He liked the feel of it plus it gave him a gravitas often denied him because of his baby pale skin and long lashed green eyes. He didn't bring his gun because he knew he couldn't be trusted with a firearm. Instead, he carried a knife as per Gibbs' rule #9.

It was a nice breezy fall day, and he liked the brisk dance of crisp, colorful leaves as they skated across the sidewalk. It was Prescott Park in the light, and it amazed him how un-sinister it felt. As he walked, he still saw drug deals going down and homeless people stealing sleep in the shade, but he also saw a mother attempting a picnic in the grass with her two babies and he was passed by three schoolgirls running down the sidewalk in identical uniforms and bobby socks.

He kept walking through the day, happy to be outside and beyond the reach of well-meaning friends. In this park, McGee was hoping for answers. He was not so naïve that he imagined evidence of his brutalization would present itself, but he wanted to feel strong. The park was his enemy, and his presence was his defiance. He threw looks where he could, wondering how he might weather a confrontation, but so far, everyone had other business to conduct.

He was eyeing two men in a heated argument to his left when he heard his name. Startled, he whirled around, breathing hard. Gibbs sat on a park bench, his hands clasped in his lap.

The anger and frustration of the last two weeks boiled over. "What the hell, Gibbs! Can I get a little frickin' space here!"

Gibbs sat silently and waited.

McGee shook his head and turned away. "I need space! Not a constant reminder of my failings."

"Is that what you think I bring?"

"I don't know, Boss. Maybe."

"I walked this park three-four times the day after you were assaulted. I wanted to get a feel for the place. I wanted to understand why this happened to you."

McGee narrowed his eyes. "You never ask that question. Why is for motive and nothing else. The motive in this case is simple. I was here when they were here and thus, I was assaulted. Why people ultimately do bad things is unknowable. You have always said that."

Gibbs nodded. "When you're the investigator that's true, but when you're the victim, why something happened means everything."

"You weren't the victim, Boss."

"Everyone who cares about you were victims that day. All of us suffered. I couldn't make an arrest because I was incapable of not hurting this T-Bone person, and so all I could do was come here and ask myself why."

McGee bit his bottom lip and looked away.

"Sit down, Tim."

McGee obeyed but couldn't look at his boss.

Gibbs sighed. "When my wife and daughter died, I remembered feeling something as raw as what you were experiencing. I went there in my head. What saved me was Mike Franks, and so I got a little intense with you; I was sure that you needed focus and discipline. I forgot that you needed to heal, and I was too absorbed in my own memories to remember that you are not me. The solutions for my life don't translate as solutions for yours."

McGee was frozen on the bench next to him.

"You're a remarkable man, Tim, and I'm honored to know you, but that's not enough. I care about you. You're one of mine. I…don't say that about…many people. There are only a few people in my life…I would've done anything to keep this from happening to you. You need to know that."

McGee let out a ragged sigh. "Every day of my life, I try to measure up to your standards. I am a 35 year-old man, but I still seem to need your approval. I should be past that."

Gibbs chuckled. "Have you ever met Tony?"

McGee looked at him. "You think I'm going to make it, Boss?"

"I don't know, McGee. Are you going to come to Prescott Park every day spoiling for a fight?"

"I haven't found any takers."

"Not to burst your bubble, Tim, but you look a little like a guy that needs to directed back to the tour bus from Minnesota."

McGee winced. "Thanks, Boss."

"Well, it can always be said that I'm a bastard. Are you sure you don't want to be pissed at me some more?"

McGee looked him in the eye. "No more missed birthdays. I know you're trying to toughen me, but the truth is that I'm a lot tougher than you think."

Gibbs nodded. "That's another thing I've thought about these two weeks. You are a very tough son of a gun, McGee. In my heart, I knew it, but you're such a gentle guy, and I get distracted by that."

"I know. I'm soft, gentle, and sensitive. I'm an Elf Lord, I play online games, I write books, I use lotion, and I get the occasional manicure, but I've never backed down during a case so get over it already. Okay?"

He smiled. "I hear you, Tim."

"Good." McGee went back to staring out over the landscape.

"Are you ready to go back to work?"

Tim frowned. "I thought I needed to go through a whole psychological before I could come back."

"You do. This is a little off the books."

"Yeah, I hear Balboa's team is being a little slow on the cyber end of things. I got my laptop in the car. What do you need?"

Gibbs patted him on the back. "You ain't going to need your laptop for this job."

…..

The hallways were dingy and smelled of urine. McGee wrinkled his nose as he followed Gibbs up the stairs. It was four flights up and at two of the landings, people sat on the stairs and glared at them while they passed. Gibbs knocked on the apartment door for minutes with no response. McGee was ready to leave when Gibbs gave the door a carefully placed kick and it popped open.

Inside was sparse; a stale smelling couch with most of its cushions missing and a mattress were the only items that took up space in the living room. The room was cluttered with dirty clothes slung over surfaces and candy bar wrappers. Gibbs picked his way through the mess and went into the only bedroom. McGee followed him, and they found a young woman sprawled on a bed. She was so still that it was hard to detect her breathing. Gibbs picked up her arm and pointed at the track marks in the crease of her elbow. McGee shook his head and felt for her pulse.

"What are you doing here?"

Both men turned around, startled by Devon standing in the doorway. Gibbs nodded. "We were looking for you, Devon."

"That's my sister, Tanisha. She's resting."

"She's high, Devon. Heroin or meth?"

He shrugged. "What's the difference? She'll get scared if she wakes up and sees you."

Gibbs nodded and gestured for McGee to follow him back into the living room. Devon seemed to relax once the bedroom door was closed.

"Devon, do you remember Tim?"

The kid looked at McGee. "You look better than you did tied to that busted up merry-go-round."

McGee crouched in front of him. "You saved my life, Devon."

"Wasn't nothing."

"Was to me."

"And me," Gibbs added.

Devon looked at both of them. "T-Bone and his crew haven't been around."

"We arrested them yesterday. Going to do a line up in a couple of days. Tim's going to be there, and we were hoping you would be too."

Devon looked at McGee. "You remember their faces, right?"

He shook his head. "Not so good, really. I was face down and it was dark."

"Can you guys really help my sister?"

"I got a place set up for her. Can you convince her to go?"

Devon nodded. "Tanisha promised me she would. She's been trying to real hard to get into a rehab place."

"Good. Go wake her up. I'll have a van here for her in twenty minutes."

"I gotta' stay here alone?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No way. You're going to go stay with Tim here."

Devon frowned for a moment, but left the room to wake his sister.

McGee leaned over. "Boss, I'm not so good at night. I have nightmares."

"That's right. Okay. Then the two of you are sleeping at my house."

McGee looked alarmed. "Seriously?"

"This kid is your new job, McGee."

"I don't know if I'm ready."

Gibbs looked at him closely. "He needs you and you need him."

…..

Tim stood over the stove waiting for pancakes to bubble. It was his second morning at Gibbs' house with the boy. And for the most part, everything Gibbs had said about them needing each other had been true. Thinking about someone else had kept him distracted, and Devon seemed to enjoy his company.

He winced at the pain in his head. His solution for sleep these days came with the consequence of a hangover. Sleeping medication wasn't enough. Every morning, he hid the empty wine bottles in the bottom of the trash, hoping Gibbs wouldn't find them.

"I'm ready for more of those hotcakes."

Startled, McGee looked over his shoulder. "You just finished four."

"So?"

Tim grinned as he flipped them in the pan. "Right. What was I thinking?"

"Do you want to do more math games today? Can we go to another museum? Can I talk to Tanisha? I bet I can bet you at Mario Bros today."

The boy was so hungry for the normal existence of a ten year old that it broke Tim's heart. He couldn't imagine ever returning him to that rundown apartment building. "Dev, we can do some fun stuff this morning, but this afternoon we have to go to the precinct for a line up. Still feel like you can do that?"

Devon shrugged. "You won't help Tanisha if I don't."

The idea of it turned McGee's stomach and he knelt in front of Devon. "We'll help Tanisha no matter what. I promise you that."

"But you need me to help you get T-Bone, right?"

Tim took a deep breath. "Yeah, I think we do."

"Okay. Let's do it."

Tim smiled at the kid, patted his head, and went to the stove, pouring four more cakes onto the griddle. His head pounded and he searched the cupboards for pain relievers, but came up with nothing. "You love Tanisha a lot. Tell me about her."

Mouth full, Devon started in. "She used to be happy and she was in college and all the guys wanted to date her, but she didn't let them because she was focused on being a good sister and a good student. She and I used to hang out a lot."

"What happened?"

The boy was quiet for a moment. "T-Bone liked her. Wanted to take her out, but she said no. One night, she didn't come home. I waited all day, and when she showed up, she was all beat and hurt like you were."

McGee stopped breathing for a moment.

"I don't know what all happened, but I saw the whupping marks on her back. She wouldn't talk to me. She stayed in her bedroom for weeks. Stopped going to college. Started drinking. And then one day, I came home and there was a guy there, and he was shooting her up. She told me that it's the only thing that helps her forget. I saw the bottles you were hiding in the trash. Do you think maybe you'll get like Tanisha?"

McGee froze, unable to face the boy.

"T-Bone and his boys took down my friend's brother a year ago. He shot himself in the head a month later. Another kid told me that his cousin hanged himself after T-Bone beat him."

McGee stared out the window to the backyard but his eyes couldn't seem to focus on anything.

"I think the pancakes are burning."

He felt a hand on his arm, and he jumped back, finding Gibbs at his elbow. He gently took the spatula from McGee. "Go sit down, Tim."

Stunned, Tim sat across from Devon. The boy knew something was wrong, but couldn't reason it through. He turned to Gibbs. "I'm ready for more of those hotcakes."

Gibbs looked over his shoulder. "You've already had eight. We're feeding Tim next."

McGee swallowed. "Not hungry, boss."

"Gotta' eat anyway."

McGee stared at the pancakes Gibbs deposited on his plate. Mechanically, he reached for the butter and the syrup.

…

Tim sat on the back steps watching leaves fall lazily to the ground. He heard the door open behind him and he dropped his head. Gibbs sat down beside him. "Devon is in the shower. He loves the new clothes you bought him."

"He doesn't understand the consequences of getting involved. I'm not sure we're doing the right thing."

"Putting T-Bone away is the right thing, McGee."

"I'm not letting him go back to that hellhole."

"We'll take it one day at a time."

Tim grimaced. "There are still three bottles of wine hiding under these stairs."

"They probably belong in the refrigerator, don't you think?"

Tim looked at Gibbs. "You aren't going to throw them away?"

"Nope."

McGee looked away. "I'm afraid that I'm starting to need it."

"You should be."

"I'll get rid of them."

Gibbs gripped his arm. "Not for me, Tim. Never for me! Do it when it's the right decision for you."

McGee looked up at the sky. "I don't know how else to sleep."

"Dr. Cranston is coming over to see you tonight."

"Boss!"

"Yeah, that's something you don't get to choose."

McGee closed his eyes.

"You won't let anything happen to that boy today."

McGee straightened up. "I'll keep that boy safe, Boss. That's a guarantee."

He got up and went back into the house. Gibbs nodded to himself as he took over watching leaves fall to the ground.

…..

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: McGee's connection with Devon deepens and we introduce superhero, Iceman. Plus, Abby finally gets it right. Hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think. Sheila

Grand Canyon Deep

Chapter 7

The line up was excruciating. McGee could only positive ID one of the suspects, and it was not T-Bone. He never actually saw the man who orchestrated his torture. They left him in an interrogation room while Gibbs took Devon in. Tony came in and tried to cheer him up, but his misery was pretty complete. Finally, Tony left in search of soft drinks for both of them. McGee was tempted to tell Tony that he would prefer a liter of whatever scotch had the highest alcohol content, but he was unwilling to admit to even himself his growing dependence.

Assistant District Attorney Sullivan was a tall woman with a mane of raven hair falling down her back. She came into interrogation and sat down next to him. "The boy did better. He identified 8 of the 9.

McGee relaxed. "Where is he?"

"Agent Gibbs took him down to the break room. They're going to find something for the boy to eat out of the vending machines."

McGee almost protested. He'd seen the convenience store food that Devon survived on, and had been doing his best to cook real food for the boy.

There was a knock on the door, and without waiting for a response, T-Bone's defense lawyer walked in. "Ms. Sullivan, I'm glad you are with Mr. McGee. My client, Lester Biggs, has a motion that needs to be heard."

Sullivan narrowed her eyes. "And what is it that Mr. T-Bone wants?"

"His sometime girlfriend, Tanisha Jones, contacted him today. She says she is the sister of your second witness."

McGee was on his feet, but Sullivan put a hand on his arm. "The name of the second witness was redacted, and Ms. Jones is in rehab, Mr. Hopkins. And my understanding is that Ms. Jones is definitely not friends with Mr. T-Bone."

Hopkins smiled. "Well, she apparently doesn't like it there and wishes to return home, and since your redacted witness is in her custody, she would like the boy to come home with her."

"Not happening!" McGee shouted, slamming his palms on the table.

"The state's witness appears to have quite a temper, Ms. Sullivan. Makes me wonder what really happened that night."

Sullivan got between McGee and Hopkins. "The boy is not being returned to his sister. Clearly, she's incapacitated."

"As soon as you tell me where she is, she has agreed to sign over temporary custody of the boy to me. While I do not know Ms. Jones, I have assured her that I can find a stable home for him until trial. As it stands, Ms. Jones is claiming that she was taken to treatment against her will. If her location is not revealed immediately, I'll have no choice than to report her disappearance as a kidnapping."

Tony opened the door just as McGee scrambled over the table and launched himself at T-Bone's lawyer. He dropped the drinks, but couldn't get there before Tim had tackled Hopkins to the floor and was getting ready to throw the first punch. Tony grabbed him from behind and wrenched him away from Hopkins. Sullivan was screaming for help, and Hopkins was just screaming.

Ziva appeared followed by McCadden. Tony pulled McGee to the ground, looked up at her, and barked, "Gibbs!"

She turned and ran. McCadden helped Tony subdue McGee while Sullivan got Hopkins to his feet. Once on his feet, the defense lawyer started shouting, "I want him arrested now! He assaulted me without provocation, and you're a witness, Ms. Sullivan."

"Without provocation, my ass!" Sullivan yelled. "No judge would ever give you custody of a prosecution witness and you know it! You were just trying to rattle him!"

McCadden looked up at Sullivan. "Do I cuff him?"

"Do I have to file a complaint?" Hopkins barked at her.

She shook her head in frustration. "Sorry Phil, but you need to book him for first degree assault."

Tony got up, red faced. "This is a joke. You just said he was baiting McGee."

"Still doesn't give him the right to attack Mr. Hopkins."

Phil helped McGee to his feet, and put the cuffs on gently. "Sorry McGee."

McGee didn't say anything. He seemed lost in another world.

"I'm going through booking with him," Tony muttered to McCadden who nodded and gently prodded McGee to go through the door.

Gibbs appeared in the squad room. "DiNozzo! McGee!"

McGee lifted his head as Gibbs came trotting toward them. "Boss, they got to Tanisha! You need to make sure she's safe!"

Gibbs took in the situation. "I want him in my custody."

McCadden gestured at Sullivan. "A.D.A. says he's got to be booked, but I'm going to let Tony go through the whole process with him."

Gibbs glared at Sullivan. "How quickly can you get him before a judge?"

"I can pull in some favors—"

"Do it! We're not leaving this house without him, Sullivan! And if that means bringing Secretary of the Navy down here, we'll get it done!"

She nodded and got on the phone.

Gibbs pointed a finger at McCadden. "He does not go into general population."

McCadden rolled his eyes. "'Cause you think I'm stupid, right?"

McGee lifted his head again. "Boss, I'm worried about Tanisha. T-Bone's lawyer knows who Devon is. We gotta' protect them."

Gibbs put a hand on his arm. "It's okay, Tim. Ziva's got Devon. And I'm going to go see Tanisha myself right now."

"I'm sorry, Boss."

Tony jumped in. "From what I could tell, the bastard had it coming, Boss."

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter what happened. We just have to fix it. DiNozzo, you don't let McGee out of your sight for one minute. If that means, you sit in a cell with him, that's what you do."

"Got it."

"I'll be okay," McGee mumbled.

Gibbs pointed at him. "You don't have a choice, McGee. It's an order."

…

"You won again!" Abby smiled brightly at Devon.

He frowned at her. "You let me win."

"Did not."

"Did too."

Abby bit her lip. "Okay, so I did, but not this next time. I am going to kick your butt."

"I want you to call Tim again. You said he'd be here by now."

Ziva was walking into the living room with bowls of ice cream. She caught Abby's eye. "He should be here soon."

Devon looked at her. "I don't understand why he had to stay at the police station so long."

"He had to talk to the…detectives longer."

Devon took a deep breath. "What about the Iceman? Where is he?"

"Iceman?" Ziva frowned.

Abby grew a smile. "It's Gibbs. You're talking about Gibbs, aren't you?"

Devon looked embarrassed. "Tim said that I'm not supposed to call him that, but I can't remember his name sometimes. He's got ice blue eyes like the Iceman in my comic books. You see, Iceman can destroy bad guys with those killer blue eyes, but he's also on the side of justice."

Ziva nodded. "Hmmm. That describes Gibbs perfectly, but you must learn to call him Gibbs because I do not think he would want you to call him Iceman."

"Yeah, that's what Tim said. I really wish Tim were here. He promised me we would play some more math games. I'm really good at them."

…

It was another an hour before the front door of Gibbs' home opened revealing Ducky, Tony, and McGee. Devon saw McGee, jumped up from the couch, and ran to greet him. He hugged him as if he'd known McGee a lifetime. McGee looked pale and dazed, and he almost couldn't handle the force of the little boy's affection. Tony steadied him, and then Devon pulled him over to the couch. "It took you all day! Did you recognize them? I recognized a bunch of 'em. The Ice—I mean Gibbs said I did a real good job. He bought me a candy bar, but I told him that you thought I wasn't eating right. He said to not tell you, but you and I, we don't roll like that. It was just a one-time thing though. Okay? Otherwise, it's been like a pretty lady convention around here. Abby's got gaming skills and Ziva bought pizza and ice cream. Again, that's outside your rules, and I said something, but Ziva said you'd be okay about it. And we can't really ban pizza, can we? Wanna' see what Abby and I were playing?"

Tim nodded wearily and put his arm around Devon while the boy showed him his game scores.

Tony leaned over to Ducky and murmured. "Tim's only known him for a few days, but Devon acts like McGee's his parent."

Ziva sidled up to them and whispered. "He's been worried about Tim all afternoon. We could hardly keep him focused on anything."

Ducky nodded. "Two things: they are forever bonded by what happened in the park and the other is that the boy is desperate for structure and attention. His time with Timothy has probably felt something like what a man feels when someone first offers him water after a grueling marathon. To have Timothy's care and attention must be a like a new day dawning for the poor boy."

Devon stopped his chatter for a moment. "You're shaky. Do you need some wine? I can get some from under the porch for you if you want."

Tim froze, his face stricken, and then his gut heaved. Abby pulled him up and he stumbled to the bathroom. She followed him. Devon sat still on the couch like a little boy who knew he did something wrong, but wasn't sure what it was.

Ducky went over and extended his hand. "My name is Ducky. Ever met anyone named that before?"

Devon looked up, teary. "Did I do something bad?"

Ducky sat next to him. "Timothy has a bit of the flu, I think. You didn't do a single thing wrong. You seem to be the best kind of friend for Timothy."

"He didn't want anyone to know about the wine. That's what I did wrong."

"It's okay, Lad. He'll be fine."

Ziva looked at Tony and whispered. "Flu?"

"He started vomiting the moment he got put in a cell. Every 15-20 minutes. It was horrible. I called Ducky in. He thinks it is the trauma. Being handcuffed and put in a cell must have brought back memories of being tied down. They wouldn't let me in the cell with him, but McCadden stood outside it with me the whole time. He took a lot of flack from the deputies for the breach in protocol. I misjudged him."

Ziva nodded. "As reward, I will offer him my body the next time I see him."

DiNozzo choked and looked at her, eyes blinking.

She rolled her eyes. "Kidding. Someone has to lighten the mood around here."

…

Abby held him around the middle while he wretched. It was clear that this wasn't his first trip to the bathroom as there was nothing left in his stomach to expel. When he finished, she wet a washcloth and cooled his face. He squirmed. "It's okay, Abby. You don't have to do all this."

"I want to, Timmy. I care for you so very deeply. It makes my heart ache sometimes."

He looked away. "I've been drinking at night…too much. I don't think I can sleep without it."

She put the cloth down and took him by the arms. "You're going to be okay. We're all here, and you can push us away all you want, but we're not going anywhere…especially not me."

He looked into her eyes for a long moment. "Thanks Abs."

…..

When he and Abby returned, the living room was further crowded. Gibbs and Director Vance were standing there. Devon got off the couch and ran up to Tim. "I'm real sorry. It was a secret. I won't do it again."

McGee shook his head. "It's all good, buddy. I was going to tell them anyway."

Gibbs gestured for McGee to sit. "We were just telling Devon that we spent the afternoon with Tanisha and even though she's detoxing, she's doing really well."

McGee relaxed. "That's good to hear, Boss."

Vance sat across from McGee and Devon. "She wants you to be happy and safe while she's gone. I know you like staying with Gibbs and McGee, but I told her about my house, and she really wants you to stay there for a little while. I have two kids, one who's about your age, Devon."

Devon edged closer to McGee. "I don't even know you, Mister."

McGee leaned over. "That's my boss, Director Vance."

"Gibbs is your boss. I heard you call him that plenty of times. Plus, I don't want to stay with no director and his snobby kids."

Vance stayed patient. "Tanisha thinks it's best for you."

"That's a lie, Mister. If she knew Tim, she'd know that he's the right person for me."

McGee frowned. "Be nice."

"Tim can come and visit whenever he wants."

Devon leaned against Tim's arm. "I'm sorry, Mister. It's nice of you to offer, but I better stay with Tim. I gotta'. We're watching over one another."

"I promise that you will be safe at my house, Devon."

McGee sighed. "It's not his safety he's worried about, Director. Let me talk to him for a minute."

Ducky gestured to Vance and he got up.

McGee put his arm around Devon. "Look at me, Buddy. I'm going to be okay."

Devon shook his head.

"You told me all those stories about what happened to people after T-Bone hurt them. You need to understand that it won't happen to me. I promise you."

"What about drugs? Plus, the Iceman has guns. I saw 'em. And I looked in the basement. There's rope. What if you get too scared and nobody's around? My friend's brother waited until no one else was around."

"Oh my God. The responsibilities this child carries." Ziva murmured, tears in her eyes. Tony put his arms around her and rocked her gently.

Devon looked up at McGee. "I'll be good, Tim. I won't say the wrong thing again. I promise."

Gibbs crouched in front of Devon. "I'm the Iceman, huh?"

"Sorry, Mr. Gibbs."

Gibbs put a hand on his knee. "Hey, it's okay. I kind of like it. The Iceman is pretty powerful, huh?"

"He's tough, but he gets bad guys and he serves justice. That's what it says in my comic book."

"Then you have to know that if I make you a promise, it's for real."

Devon nodded.

Gibbs looked him in the eye. "The Iceman promises you that Tim will be okay. I won't leave him alone, and I won't let him get hurt."

"I don't want to leave Tim." Devon grasped McGee tightly and finally let the tears fall.

"Shhhh," Tim wiped at his tears. "Remember when Ducky said I had the flu. I need a couple of days to get better, but I'm not disappearing from your life. I'm coming to see you really soon, and you're going to see that I'm doing better."

Devon just sobbed into McGee's chest. Then someone new was there and she knelt in front of Devon. She rubbed his back softly. "Hey Devon, my name is Jackie."

Devon opened an eye and looked at her. Jackie Vance was a very pretty woman, but she was also all mother. She just rubbed his back and waited. Finally, he calmed. "Do you live with that director boss and his two kids?"

She smiled. "His name is Leon, but sometimes my husband forgets his own name."

"Are you good at making macaroni and cheese? Tim here made it from a recipe and everything. It was kinda' sticky but I liked it. He makes pancakes for breakfast and he read me a story even though I already know how to read. It's about Muskeeters who slice people with swords and save kings, and they all got girlfriends. We went to museums too."

She nodded. "That's going to be a tough act to follow. I think I might need to get your friend, Tim, to come over and babysit my kids some day."

"Do you have math games at your house? I'm real good at them."

She softly touched his cheek. "We got lots of good stuff."

"Are your kids nice? Sometimes, rich kids don't like hood kids."

"My kids are so excited to meet a new friend that they're sitting in the car right now just going nuts about it."

Devon whispered. "They might not like me."

"They're going to like you just fine. Come here, baby. You stay with us for a little while. You can talk to Tim every day, and in a few days, Tanisha is going to be ready to start calling you as well."

Devon let her pull him off the couch. He took her hand and looked back at McGee. Tim nodded at him, struggling to keep his face impassive. "I'm going to call you tomorrow, buddy."

Abby could feel the trembling in Tim's hands, but she waited until Devon disappeared out the door with Vance and his wife before she took his hands in hers.

For a long moment, there was silence and then Ziva exploded. "What is wrong with this Tanisha? Does she not understand how he suffers?"

Tim looked up. "She's a victim too, Ziva."

Ziva threw up her arms. "She told T-Bone's people that her brother was the witness!"

"Tim's right," Gibbs said, settling down on the couch. "She woke up this morning in detox, and she was terrified. She got a hold of a cell phone and called her dealer to come get her, only she didn't know where she was. The dealer, of course, called T-Bone's people because he is scum. Then he called her back, and lied to her about who was going to be watching over Devon. Vance and I spent four hours with her this afternoon. She wants what's best for Devon, and she's horrified about what happened. We moved her to a more secure location. In fact, she is in the same rehab now as an Undersecretary of Commerce, a White House staffer, two Navy Commanders, and an Army General. That place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. She signed over custody to Vance because his living situation offers Devon the most consistent and stable home environment."

"I'm in no position to take care of a child," McGee murmured.

"Don't even think about feeling bad, McGee. That kid adores you. If you weren't struggling with your own issues, I would've fought to keep him with you."

"Who knew you would be such a good mother, McNurture?" Tony said, shaking his head.

"I did," Ziva said.

"Me too," added Abby.

"Is Dr. Cranston still coming tonight?"

Gibbs shook his head. "I called her. She'll come tomorrow. Wants to meet with both of us at noon."

McGee looked around the room. "I should explain the drinking."

"We don't judge you, McGee." Ziva said softly.

"I can't seem to sleep without drinking."

"Timothy, if you have trouble sleeping, just come to me. We'll adjust your sleeping medication."

"No amount of sleeping medication helps me forget, Ducky."

"You're right, Timothy. It won't. But I worry that drinking will foster a dependency."

"Me too," he said as he got up. "I better get going. I'm pretty tired. Maybe that'll be enough to help me sleep."

"Whoa!" Gibbs was shaking his head. "You're staying here, McGee."

"Devon's not here anymore."

"That doesn't change things."

Tim's face flushed. "You don't trust me!"

Ducky stepped in. "It's not that, Timothy. It's just that—"

Gibbs put a hand up. "I got this, Duck. McGee, if you were the boss and I were you with all you've been through, what would you be doing?"

Tim said nothing.

"Come on, McGee. Being the boss is going to be a reality for you some day. Tell me what you would do."

He dropped his head and sighed. "I would keep you close."

Gibbs watched him steadily. "Because you don't trust me?"

McGee shook his head. "No, I would keep you close because you need the support of friends while your demons are still so near."

"I think you're going to make a terrific team leader, McGee."

McGee grew the hint of a smile.

"Okay now, what are we going to do about the booze?"

McGee shook his head. "I don't know, Boss. I need the relief it gives me."

Abby took his arm and pulled him back onto the couch. "Tonight, I'm your relief. We're going to work on that snooper program we've always talked about. That'll make you sleepy for sure."

Ducky nodded. "Focusing on a problem unrelated to your current circumstances might just be the ticket."

…

Gibbs came up from his basement after midnight. He went into the living room and surveyed the scene. Everyone but Abby and McGee had left hours ago. A laptop was open on the coffee table. McGee was leaning against the back of the couch, snoring softly. A sleeping Abby was leaning against him. Gibbs smiled. He'd always had a soft spot for their relationship. He knew it would be wise to separate them. She still carried the bruise on her face from the last time they slept together, but he didn't have the heart. His gut told him that this time McGee would know that it was Abby beside him.

…

In the night, he heard voices outside his bedroom and sat up.

"McGee, what are you doing?"

"Getting you settled in the spare bedroom."

"But where are you going?"

"Going back to sleep on the couch."

"No! Stay here with me."

"Boss wouldn't like it."

"Bo—Gibbs doesn't care. If he thought sex was the trick to sleep for you, he would've hired you a call girl by now."

"Shhhh! He'll hear you and he would not have." McGee hissed. "Sex is not the trick—Abby, we are most definitely not having sex."

"I know. I'm just saying that he doesn't care if we wake up in the same bed."

"I don't know."

Gibbs sighed before calling out into the hallway. "McGee! Abby! Get in that damn bed together and shut up already!"

…

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Rachel looked under the steps to the porch and saw a bag. She opened it and found three bottles of white wine. She closed it again and looked at the two men sitting on the back porch. "Neither one of you intends to do anything about this?"

Gibbs shrugged. "It's not mine to touch."

McGee looked down at his folded hands. "I should get rid of it, but Boss says I should do it for me, and right now, it's still so tempting. Leaving it here means I'm still thinking of drinking it. Throwing it away just seems like a lie; an opportunity to buy more and hide it elsewhere."

She nodded. "Integrity is important to both of you; something you have in common."

Gibbs got up. "I should probably get going. I'm sure you and McGee here need some time alone."

She shook her head, taking a rocking chair at the corner of the porch. "I need you here today."

Gibbs frowned. "I don't understand."

She smiled. "We're not going to jump straight into McGee's trauma. Tim, what I know of you tells me that you don't open your life to others easily. There will be no pushing without your permission. Today, I was hoping to better understand who you are. I think Gibbs can help us with that."

McGee gave his boss a strange look. "The boss and I don't have a lot of personal conversations."

"No, you don't, do you? Both of you are very private men. Gibbs, when you and I talked, we concentrated on how the two of you are different. Today, we'll concentrate on how the two of you are alike."

The two men seemed uneasy.

"Okay. We have established that you are both private people. While DiNozzo or Abby can share their life histories with almost anyone, the two of you are very guarded. Gibbs, for years, no one on your team knew about Shannon and Kelly. McGee, with you the list goes on. You hid the fact that you were a published author. It was years before you admitted to your team that your father was a Navy admiral."

McGee frowned. "The two things are hardly comparable. I had my reasons and Boss had his."

"Still, you chose to hide parts of your life that would impact people's perceptions of you. Tim, how often do you speak to your father?"

McGee reddened.

"It's a simple question, Tim."

"How is it relevant?"

"Answer the question."

"It's been almost 7 years."

Gibbs looked at him. "I thought you spoke to him regularly."

McGee looked away. "We got into a fight. He was underwhelmed when I got promoted to your team. Said I was throwing away my potential by settling to be some law enforcement computer tech. He had an opportunity for me to work on a research team studying submarine technology. I would've been able to get my doctorate while doing it. I turned him down. We haven't spoken since."

Gibbs threw up an arm. "Seven years because he didn't like your choice of job! Are you kidding! You're going to lose him someday, and the only thing that will be echoing in your head is the fact that you let one idiot fight get in the way of a relationship for all these years."

"You didn't talk with your father for even longer."

Gibbs was on his feet. "You have no idea how much I regret that! And I'm working very hard to change that. If my life history has taught me anything, it's that you never know how much time you have with the people you love. You can't waste a single minute."

"This is good," Rachel said softly. "The privacy you both hold so dear, the honor that's so important to both of you, and the stubbornness you both share: it both links you and it keeps you from knowing each other well. Take an opportunity to actually open up with one another. It'll help both of you."

Gibbs shook his head wearily. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Rachel."

"McGee is not like you, but he lives his life in remarkably similar ways. You build boats in your basement while he spends his nights unlocking secrets inside computers. You both hide the vulnerable parts of who you are, and you are both tremendously stubborn about protecting those vulnerabilities. Gibbs, you're here because you've been doing it longer; long enough to have regrets and to know how it steals the possibilities for your future."

"I don't know what that means," Tim said, shaking his head.

"I do." Gibbs sat down again.

"Gibbs, he still has time for a family, a relationship with his father, but most importantly, if you can help him understand how to open up about his pain, he can avoid spending the rest of his life paralyzed by what happened one night in a city park."

"Well, that would be your job, Rachel."

"Yeah, I've seen how he looks up to you. It'll mean more coming from you." She got up, gathering up her bag.

McGee cocked his head. "Where are you going?"

"Are you ready to tell me what happened from the very beginning? Are you willing to share what lies within you?"

He shook his head slowly.

"Think about what we talked about here. Then call me when you are ready."

McGee watched her disappear around the side of the house. "That was weird."

"Very weird," Gibbs agreed.

"What am I supposed to do again?"

"You're supposed to listen to me. First order of business is for you to think about how stupid it is that you haven't talked to your dad in 7 years. And stop keeping everything pent up inside."

"You do it!"

"Yeah, and my life is the definition of a cautionary tale. Learn from it, Tim!"

"That's it?"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "For right now. I'll let you know when the next pearl of wisdom drops into my mouth."

McGee looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Tony will want me to call you Yoda, you know."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Tell Tony he can stick that idea where the sun don't shine."

….

"I can't believe that he set bail for T-Bone at only $100,000," hissed Tony to Gibbs.

Gibbs didn't respond. He stayed focused on T-Bone who stood next to his lawyer while the man worked out details with the judge. A gavel sounded and the hearing was over.

The lawyer, Hopkins, hurried off to pay the $10,000 bail while T-Bone waited with a couple of deputies. Gibbs slipped into the aisle, his eyes never leaving T-Bone. The gangbanger met his eyes for the first time. He remembered the old man who put him down on the sidewalk the day of his arrest. He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care so much, old man?"

"You hurt my friend."

T-Bone looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Gibbs got closer and whispered. "You will be punished to the full extent of the law, and if that doesn't happen, I'll be waiting for you. Let's see how you do strapped down, waiting for me to decide how to make you scream."

T-Bone took a step back and ran into a table. He pulled on the sleeve of a deputy. "Get him away from me! He's threatening me!"

The beefy deputy turned and looked at Gibbs. Then he looked at T-Bone. "I didn't see nothing. A fella' like this shouldn't make you tremble like a little girl. Maybe, this will teach you how to behave."

T-Bone caught sight of his lawyer. "Hopkins, I'm being harassed here."

Hopkins trotted up. "Leave my client alone."

"Just saying hello," Gibbs drawled.

"I know all about your methods. When I'm done with your agent McGee in criminal court, I plan to sue his ass in civil court. My chiropractor says I have swollen vertebrae as a result of his vicious attack."

Tony tried to push past Gibbs. "I was there, Hopkins! Saw the whole thing! You're going to lose in criminal and civil court!"

Gibbs pulled Tony away from the gathering. "Pull yourself together, DiNozzo. Come on. We got work to do."

Gibbs put his arm around Tony's shoulders and directed him out the door, but Gibbs himself stopped before the door shut and pointed at T-Bone. The gangster glared back at him.

…..

McGee listened to the woman on the phone while he grabbed his coat and keys. "It's okay, Mrs. Vance. I'll take care of it. It'll be okay."

He slammed the door to Gibbs' house and ran for his car.

….

He opened the door to Mrs. Watkins' office and saw him sitting there, schoolbooks in his lap. McGee saw him and put a hand to his forehead, letting out a sigh of relief. "Are you okay?"

Devon nodded. "Everybody's mad at me."

Tim knelt in front of him. "You bet we are, Devon. What were you thinking?"

"I didn't like that rich school."

Tim looked up and noted Mrs. Watkins sitting at her desk. "How long was he here before you found him?"

"Most of his peers saw him," she said. "You said you would protect him. He's not going to last 24 hours in this neighborhood now."

"It's okay because I'm getting him out of here."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And will he catch a bus back here again tomorrow?"

McGee looked at Devon. "I'll make sure that doesn't happen again."

Devon got teary. "I can't go back to that school. They're snobby and mean and I got into a fight with one of them. They know I'm hood and that I don't have no money. I can't do it."

McGee thought about arguing with him, but he suspected that the boy was fighting an uphill battle at the private school that Vance's kids attended. He turned to Mrs. Watkins, "Can we get his homework? I can do the work with him for the next few days."

"Then what?"

McGee turned to face her. "I don't know, but we're not just leaving him in this neighborhood with T-Bone around. I promise you that."

"Okay." She folded her arms. "I already packed it in the backpack in his lap. I figured that private school wouldn't want him back."

McGee's phone rang and he brought it to his ear. "We're all ready, Boss. We're coming out the front. I'm parked in the loading zone for buses."

Watkins gave him a hard look and he shrugged. He needed the car as close to the front door as possible. "Come on, Devon. You're going to walk with me and you're going to do whatever I say. Understood?"

Devon nodded, his eyes wide.

McGee brought him out into the hallway. He hadn't a gun with him so if there was going to be a problem, his only default was to get Devon out of the way. The hall was empty, and he moved sideways with Devon so he could watch both the front and the back. The front door opened and he shoved Devon into stairwell. The outline of the person was familiar and he recognized Ziva. He relaxed and pulled Devon up again. Gun drawn, she came running toward him. "You shouldn't have come in without a weapon, McGee!"

"It's a school, Ziva!"

"I don't care! Let's get him out of here."

McGee nodded and pushed Devon in front of him. At the door, McGee heard a noise. He transferred Devon to Ziva. "Get him to the car!"

He turned and saw a kid emerge from the stairwell. He couldn't have been more than 15 or 16 years old, clearly too old for an elementary school. McGee locked eyes with the kid and waited. The kid pulled a gun out from behind his back.

"Don't!" McGee yelled. "You're just a kid."

The kid fired twice, both bullets whizzing past McGee's head. He dove for the door, pushing through it just as the kid shot again. Gibbs was there, gun drawn. McGee fell down the concrete stairs. "He's just a kid, Boss!"

DiNozzo followed Gibbs through the door. McGee stood up and looked for Ziva and Devon. She was in his car with Devon and they were driving off. His eyes swept the street, but he saw no one attempting to follow. He turned back to the school, waiting for the gunshots signaling the death of yet another inner city teen-ager, but he heard nothing. He pulled the door open, and found Gibbs standing over the kid, patting him down. The kid was breathing, and McGee clapped a hand over his mouth to stem the emotion. DiNozzo was there. He patted McGee on the back. "It's okay. Boss ordered him to drop the weapon and the kid wet his pants and did exactly that."

McGee nodded and shuddered. Mrs. Watkins had come out of her office, and the sounds of sirens had erupted from every direction.

…..

Hours later, they were all seated around the dining table in the Vance household drinking hot tea. Jackie came in. "He's finally sleeping."

Everyone on Gibbs' team nodded politely. Leon followed his wife in. "There will be a team of agents parked outside in eight hour shifts. You sure he didn't tell anyone where he was staying?"

McGee shook his head. "I asked him numerous times. I believe him. He didn't tell anyone."

Jackie poured tea for herself and sighed. "I talked to the principal. He said that Devon got into a fight with a kid because the kid got nosy and when Devon told him he didn't have a mom or a dad, the kid called him a 'scholarship kid'. Devon didn't know what it meant, but he was sure it was bad so he threw a punch. School won't have him back."

"I'm real sorry about this," McGee said.

"You don't need to be sorry, McGee," Vance said. "I don't half blame the kid. I was a scholarship kid at a private school myself. I know exactly how it can be used as a put down."

"I can home school him for the time being."

"Ma'am, do you mind if I come over and help?"

Leon Vance raised an eyebrow. "McGee, I thought you'd be focused on completing your psychological exam so you can get back into the rotation."

"This is part of his recovery, Leon," Gibbs said.

"Are you his therapist now?"

Gibbs stole a glance at McGee. "Dr. Cranston agrees."

"If it's okay with you, Ma'am, I'll be here tomorrow at 9 a.m. to work with Devon."

She smiled. "You can call me Jackie."

McGee gave Director Vance a troubled look and he nodded. "Do what she says, McGee. We don't stand on ceremony around here."

…

McGee lay in bed, reliving the memories. He concentrated on them because they were preferable to other memories, the more traumatic ones. He was exhausted but feared sleep. He had little control over where his thoughts would take him then. Thoughts of those bottles of wine became strong at moments like this, but he resisted. He survived much as the son of an admiral. This would be just another trial he would have to face.

The door to the room opened, and he saw Abby in the doorway. He leaned up on his elbows. "Abs, I told you I wanted to try to sleep by myself tonight."

She pulled off her sweater and shed her pants. She climbed in next to him wearing a t-shirt and panties. "You're not ready."

"Abs!" He said in frustration. As the physical pain had begun to subside in his life, he'd become more attuned to the attraction he'd always felt for her long, beautiful body. It was another reason he'd been pulling away from her.

"Did you ever think that I needed this too?"

He edged away from her. "You were here to help me."

"I was here for me too," she said in that husky whisper of hers. She reached over to stroke his face.

"I don't know what you want from me, Abby."

"Yeah, you do. We've been dancing around it for years."

"I'm not ready."

"It's okay, Timmy," she whispered as her long fingers reached around to stroke his back.

He stiffened. She felt the scar tissue from the welts he'd suffered, and he grabbed her wrist, pushing her away. "Don't touch me back there."

Stubbornly, she moved closer again. "I'm not leaving. This is where I belong."

"I'm going to disappoint you, Abs."

"Just be you and everything is going to be fine." She reached for him again and this time, he let her explore his skin. His breathing slowed and his body relaxed.

"Lie on your stomach for me," She said softly. He hesitated but slowly complied.

She kneaded his tense and injured muscles gently. As she massaged his tortured back, she would lean over from time to time, kissing his skin and murmuring words of comfort. It went on for hours and at some point, he let himself cry at the energy released from her massage. The tears were not emasculating for Tim, not when they happened with Abby, and he let them flow for a long time. When she finally tired and lay beside him, he spooned himself into her back, holding her tightly. He never knew it would be such a perfect fit.

….

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This chapter got wild. I didn't know it was going in this direction a couple of days ago, but my hands kept typing this. Sometimes, it happens like that. I like it and it helps me know how I can finish this in one or two more chapters. I hope it works for you. Tell me what you think. Sheila

Grand Canyon Deep

Chapter 9

McGee enjoyed his coffee on a bench while Devon sipped on a triple berry smoothie, leaning over the railing watching the boat traffic on the Potomac. They started each morning organizing his assignments at the Vance household. Then McGee would take him out into the world. They would go to coffeehouses for reading, writing, and spelling. For math, Tim would come up with real world problems, and Devon was forever measuring objects, looking for shapes, and calculating volume or perimeter or whatever the situation called for. Devon's favorite subject had become history due to the number of museums available to learn about the world.

On this particular morning, McGee had taken him to the Navy yard where he got to help a quartermaster calculate the supplies needed for 350 sailors on a cruiser for a month. Devon became totally engrossed in the exercise, and McGee had to physically pull him away after two hours.

Devon hopped off the railing and sat down next to McGee. "I think I'm going to be a Marine first, then a fighter pilot for the Navy, and then I'm going to work for NCIS like you."

McGee smiled. "Sounds like you're going to be pretty busy."

Devon leaned against McGee and sipped on his smoothie. "I wish you could be my teacher forever."

McGee put an arm around him. "It's been a lot of fun, hasn't it?"

"I talked to Tanisha. She's getting better. She says that we have to move away when she gets out."

McGee nodded. "It'll be best for both of you. The Vances are going to set you up to live with some family they have in Florida."

"Do we have to go?"

"Yeah, Devon, you do. You and Tanisha deserve better than what you had. You shouldn't have to watch your backs all the time and worry about drugs and guns. You're a kid. Your life should be about learning and fun. Tanisha needs to go back to school and have the future she deserves."

Devon let out a ragged sigh. "You're the best friend I ever had. I don't want to leave you."

"Hey buddy, I like Florida. I'm coming to visit whenever I can."

"You should meet Tanisha. She's real pretty, and she'd like you. Did you ever think about marrying a Black girl? She's a really good cook."

Tim blew out the coffee he was attempting to sip. "Wow! Devon, that's quite an offer. However, I don't think it's going to work out that way. I sort of have my eye on someone."

"Do you think you'll miss me?"

McGee started to answer but felt emotion rising in his throat. He cleared his throat. "You saved my life, Devon. For that I am grateful, but that's not why I'll miss you. I'm going to miss you because…you're my guy…I haven't had a buddy to hang out with like this in forever. Nobody wants to go see museums with me like you do. Or play games…do math…we're two peas in a pod, you and me."

Devon clutched his forearm. "We'll really stay friends?"

Tim looked down at him and wondered if these were the feelings fathers had for their sons. He squeezed the boy to him. "We will, Devon. I promise you."

…

Gibbs finally turned off the lamp at his desk. It was 10 p.m., and while it had been another quiet day, he was reluctant to go home. Abby had left a couple of hours ago, and his gut told him that she and McGee would benefit from a little time alone. The energy between them was more electric now than it had been in years. Abby was bouncing off the walls these days, and she grinned like an idiot any time McGee's name was mentioned. Gibbs smiled to himself. They were two good people, people he loved, and he'd always believed they belonged together.

He got up and slung his jacket over his shoulder. Tomorrow would be a big day. All the forensics had come in on T-Bone and his crew. It was enough to nail all of them to the wall. The ADA was going to meet with the lawyer, Hopkins, and present it. He half-hoped they were stubborn and went for the trial 'cause he didn't want to see anything resembling a plea agreement getting offered to those humps.

He pulled out of the lot and turned onto the street. He figured he'd pick up some Indian food on the way. McGee and Abby would undoubtedly be hungry when he got home. Two cabs pulled away from the curb as he drove down the street and followed him.

…

He lay quietly on her shoulder and lightly traced the skin around her perfect breasts. Then his hand trailed down her flat stomach and spread out warm and possessive on her skin. She left him to his thoughts. Even in the early days, he would get quiet after their lovemaking. Not like a man who would roll over and go to sleep. McGee would get contemplative as if marveling over the beauty of the experience. In a few minutes, he was sure to say something impossibly sweet. She suspected that his talents as a poet were almost as profound as his genius was.

This is where the trouble always started for Abby. He said that girlfriend, Jordan, had described him as a considerate lover. It was merely an indication of her idiocy that she would use such insufficient words. Timmy was a creative and attentive lover. He'd shown more interest in her kinks than any of her tattooed punks. And then he'd follow it up with such sweet profundity. He was a potent combination and this was scary for Abby.

He finished with his reverie and began kissing his way up her neck. He looked into her eyes. "That I have captured such a fierce raven beauty never fails to astound me."

She smiled wide. "I will never tire of hearing that from you."

He began stroking her long thighs, and she felt something stiffen against her side. "McGee! We've done it twice already. Did you take a little blue pill or something?"

His hand traveled up inside her thigh. "I've been waiting 7 years for another chance at you. I got a lot of catching up to do."

She giggled and turned toward him, nuzzling his neck. "Okay, big guy, show me what you got."

A door opened downstairs and they both froze. "Gibbs is here!"

McGee slid off the bed and scrambled for his pants. "I feel like a teen-ager."

"Timmy, we got to get you back in your own place."

"Agreed."

"Hey! I have Indian food down here!"

"Hi Gibbs!" Abby shouted.

"Be right down, Boss!" McGee yelled while Abby pulled her shirt on. McGee noted the bra still on the bed and threw it at her, hissing, "Put it on!"

She rolled her eyes but started to pull off her shirt again. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and shouting below. Abby and McGee froze. They heard boss yell "T-Bone!" as what sounded like a roomful of people attacked him. Abby got ready to yell, but McGee grabbed her and cupped her mouth. He scanned the room, and for a moment, he imagined shoving Abby in the back of the closet. Then his eyes settled on the window. He ran toward and opened it. Quickly, he raised the screen and grabbed her arm. He whispered, "You're going through here. The roof has a slope, but I want you to climb to the top and hide behind the chimney. You hear me?"

He heard steps on the stairs and pushed her through. She started to say something but he lowered the screen and the window. He turned and headed for Gibbs' bedroom. Men hit the landing the minute he disappeared inside. He dived for Gibbs bedside table. In the drawer, he pulled out the Israelis weapon Gibbs was holding for him. He rolled behind the bed and checked the cartridge. It was empty. He cursed. Gibbs hid the bullets.

The men were going to search this bedroom next. He looked under the bed and spied a baseball bat. He rolled it toward him. He got into a crouch and waited. One of them rounded the bed and he swung hard. He hit someone in the shoulder hard. He pulled back and aimed for the head. It connected and there was the sound of skull shattering. Two men were on him then. He landed his knee in a groin, and let go of the bat to follow up with a punch to the man's jaw. Then there was one, but McGee never had a chance. He felt the bat on the side of his head and everything went black.

…..

It took Abby about ten minutes to scale the steep roof in her bare feet. She kept her eyes closed most of the time. Agoraphobia was a fear that didn't belong to McGee alone. Finally, she could straddle the top, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She shimmied over to the chimney and hung on.

…

McGee was on the floor and someone was slapping his face. Groggily, he came to, and looked up into T-Bone's cold eyes. He pulled McGee to a sitting position. "There is a woman somewhere in this house. We found a bra."

McGee shook his head. "No woman."

T-Bone grabbed his jaw. "So you're the one wearing the bra. This I would like to see."

Behind him, his crew laughed. McGee counted six other men. He looked up at T-Bone. "Boss? Gibbs?"

T-Bone swiveled his head and McGee saw Gibbs tied tightly on the floor, his mouth covered in duct tape. There was blood seeping out of a wound on his temple.

There was another slap. "Hey McGee! I think there's a piece of ass up there still, and we want you to invite her down. Why don't you do that for us?"

"No one is up there."

T-Bone took a gun and held it to Gibbs' head. "Invite her down or I put a hole in the bossman."

McGee locked eyes with Gibbs. It was an easy decision. Abby had always been their strongest mutual bond. Each man was prepared to die for her. It had always been that way. He looked up at T-Bone. "Search it all you want. There is no one up there. There was a girl, but she left hours ago."

T-Bone cocked the gun, burying it in Gibbs' ear. Gibbs' breathing stayed quiet as if he was in line for his morning coffee. "I want the truth, McGee!"

McGee closed his eyes. "I can't create her out of thin air, you idiot! She's not there!"

T-Bone pulled the gun away from Gibbs and trained it between McGee's eyes. "So you want to die first, McGee?"

McGee found his breathing had settled much like Gibbs'. "It doesn't really matter."

T-Bone turned to his men. "String him up."

Gibbs had a hook screwed into a doorway where he used to hang a heavy bag. Men pulled McGee over to it and hung him by his handcuffs on that hook. He was tall enough so that the tops of his feet still hit the floor. It wasn't a merry-go-round in a desiccated playground, but it was felt the same. He knew there would be no quick ending. T-Bone would have his fun before he killed him and he would force Gibbs to watch. He felt the blade of a knife on his back, and his shirt was torn away. T-Bone came up behind him and examined the scars that still covered his back. "We did some fine work here, didn't we boys?"

There was some laughter although McGee could sense their uneasiness too. Being one of T-Bone's men was not the safest life course a man could take, and betraying T-Bone probably brought consequences much like what McGee experienced.

T-Bone looked at one of his men. "Go into the kitchen. Find a big pot, fill it with water, and boil it. I think we'll burn him before we whip him again."

Gibbs squirmed angrily on the ground. T-Bone turned. "We'll get to you, Gibbs. Half the fun is going to be in watching you while we torture him."

T-Bone ran a knife up and down McGee's bare torso. "If you tell us now where the boy is, you can die quickly. I promise that I'll put the gun in your mouth and it will be over."

McGee shook his head and T-Bone smiled. "I was hoping for some fun first. Believe me, after boiling water runs down your back and your skin starts to slide off, you're going to be eager to tell me everything. If not, we'll take the belt to whatever flesh is left."

McGee swallowed hard but said nothing.

"Drag Gibbs over here so he could watch his face."

Two men dragged Gibbs along the floor leaving a trail of blood behind him. They propped him against a wall next to McGee. McGee couldn't meet his eyes. His held only fear, and it embarrassed him.

Instead, he thought back to a conversation he remembered years earlier. It had happened late at night in the bullpen after a bad case. A Mossad officer named Martin Eisenberg had been kidnapped by a Hamas cell in D.C. They'd worked night and day for a week before finding Eisenberg in a warehouse dead. He'd been badly tortured for days; images so graphic they haunted McGee for months.

All of them sat at their desks at midnight, too tired to get up and go home. McGee had finally looked at Gibbs. "What could he have done?"

Gibbs thought for a while before answering. "When they're sadists, there is nothing that can be done."

Ziva nodded. She'd known Martin since they both been teen-agers training in the Mossad. "He held out because he thought we were coming. Martin was like that. He had endless hope."

"He must've lied to string them along."

"Lying doesn't work, McGee." Tony said. "It just makes your captors angry. And if they believe you, then they kill you because they have what they want."

"Do you think he said anything in the end?"

Gibbs said. "There comes a point where the pain is so great that you can no longer separate the lies from the truth. You talk at the end because it's the only thing you still know how to do."

It suddenly struck McGee as he hung on that hook that it must have annoyed the hell out of all of them to have his naïve questions at the end of something that gruesome. Yet they had been so patient with him. For all the teasing and barked orders, they'd always essentially been patient with him.

"How is that water coming? I want it at a hard boil!"

He opened his eyes and looked down at Gibbs. He didn't need to hear him talk to know what he would say. They weren't going to lie or obfuscate. They were merely going to hang on as long as possible. McGee could only pray that when the time came and he was too far gone to resist, he wouldn't remember the address to Vance's house.

…

Abby's mouth was dry as she considered what would happen next. The plan was simple. She was going to slide down the backside of the roof and catch the gutter. Then she was going to jump to the roof next door. It was both ridiculous and possible. She had no idea what was happening inside Gibbs' house, but she knew it was bad. She took a deep breath, let go of the chimney, and started her slide down the side of the roof.

…..

Gibbs looked at McGee's feet and then up at his hands. McGee took note, aware that T-Bone was also watching them closely.

"Where is that damn water?"

"Bone, it takes a while." Came a voice from the kitchen. T-Bone stalked off to check on things.

McGee followed Gibbs' eyes again. Again, Gibbs looked up at McGee's hands. McGee twisted the cuffs and the hook in the ceiling turned. Gibbs jerked his head up and down quickly and McGee understood. The right amount of weight administered at the right point would tear the hook out of the ceiling. He closed his eyes. He had to calculate how to do this right.

…..

Jumping to the other roof was a wild thing to do, but she didn't hesitate. She worried about the noise she was making, but hiding was no longer an option. With her long legs, she had no trouble making the distance but there was a big thud landing on the other roof. At first, she froze, but then she knew she had to keep moving. She ran along the roof until she found a bedroom window and then she started pounding on the glass.

….

Slowly, McGee lifted his feet so that the hook took the entire weight of his body. His wrists took a large amount of the strain, and he struggled to keep his face impassive. The pain was wild, and he was sure that his wrist bones were being pulled apart. T-Bone turned his head when he muffled a cry, but the man was so focused on McGee's face that he noted nothing else.

"Water's ready, Bone!"

"Get it in here!"

McGee took that moment to swing his legs forward. He wrapped them around T-Bone's torso and yanked. He heard it when a bone in his right wrist snapped, but then the hook tore through the plaster, and he fell on top of T-Bone. He had nothing to fight with but his handcuffed hands, hook and plaster still attached. He rammed his hands into T-Bone's face. He drew back his hands for another blow, but T-Bone's men were on top of him hitting and kicking.

Gibbs rolled into the mix, grabbing at whatever he could. McGee was dragged off of T-Bone and thrown against the wall, unconscious. Gibbs was also pushed against the wall. T-Bone was howling and holding his face.

…

Abby sat in the corner of a bedroom, her knees pulled up to her chest. She'd made the necessary phone calls, and now all she could do was wait. A rather bewildered woman in a nightgown put a blanket around her shaking shoulders while her husband shuffled downstairs to make them all some tea.

…..

Gibbs' hands were hidden by the wall, and he frantically sawed away at his ropes with a key he'd pulled out of a pocket. T-Bone was on his feet but leaning over while blood dripped from his face. Someone handed him a towel, and he wiped away enough for people to see a large gash on his forehead.

The large pot of water was cooling on a table. One of his men gestured. "I'll get the water. We'll pour it all over the bastard."

T-Bone shook his shaggy head, blood still streaming down his face. "Find some lighter fluid. Then wake him up." The large sadist went in search of a bathroom.

….

The wetness on his skin stung and the smell was overwhelming. The sensations brought him back to consciousness. He moaned at the tremendous pain radiating from his wrists and shoulders. Men dragged him into a seated position while the vile liquid was poured over his head. Confused, he looked for Gibbs. The boss was still lying on his side, but he was very agitated.

McGee looked up and saw T-Bone standing there with a bloody face, a towel perched ridiculously around his head. The man held a box of matches and lit one, throwing it at McGee.

…..

The aggrieved husband making tea for his wife and the strange woman who had appeared at their bedroom window now looked out the kitchen window while waiting for the tea to steep, and watched a man and woman sneaking around the back of Gibbs' house. He rolled his eyes and took the tray up to the bedroom. In his mind, Gibbs was merely the freak that built boats in his basement, and only showed his face for a couple hours every Sunday when he mowed the lawn.

…..

McGee was wide awake now. The first lit match extinquished before it landed on him. The second one landed at his feet, but it too died before it caught the lighter fluid. He tried to squirm away, but his arms didn't seem to be functioning. A third match landed on his arm, but the heat petered away.

T-Bone screamed. "Pour more lighter fluid on him!"

McGee winced as more fluid splashed on him. T-Bone rolled up newspaper and lit one end. A healthy flame grew and he moved toward McGee. Gibb took the moment to launch himself at T-Bone's legs. T-Bone tumbled over the coffee table and his head hit the wall hard. Gibbs waited to be tackled, but was surprised by gunshots whizzing in every direction. He looked up and saw DiNozzo and Ziva taking out gangsters.

"Stop!" he yelled. "McGee's covered in lighter fluid. You're going to spark him."

Luckily, the job was largely done. The only ones not shot lay spread-eagled on the floor. Tony barked into his phone, and police and FBI tumbled through the front door. Gibbs gestured Ziva over to McGee, and she slowly helped him to his feet. He groaned when she touched his arms. He lifted his head. "Get it off me, Ziva. Get the gasoline off."

Gently, she led him toward the stairs. Abby pushed through the authorities, breathing hard, and saw Gibbs fully conscious. He pointed at McGee, and she noted his fragility, careful not to launch herself at him. She helped Ziva get him upstairs.

…..

McGee lay his cheek against the cool ceramic of the bathtub while the rest of his body was immersed in warm water. Abby carefully bathed him with soap until the smell of the lighter fluid melted away. His wrists sill ached horribly, but he was too exhausted to think about it much. Another trauma courtesy of T-Bone. He wondered about the toll this one would take on him.

Ducky pushed past Ziva and Tony. It dawned on McGee that he was naked in a tub in front of his co-workers, but he couldn't muster up much energy about it. Ducky knelt down and looked him over. There were bruises everywhere, most notably one wrist that was swollen and the other that was actually swollen and distended. Ducky sighed and shook his head. "Did you all think you could wash this away?"

"He was covered in lighter fluid. Lots of it." Abby offered, unwilling to give McGee up to the doctor quite yet.

"Yes, well, Jethro is downstairs with a concussion, and he won't get in the damn ambulance until I see to Timothy."

McGee nodded against the ceramic. "Boss and I did the best we could."

"From what he told me, you're his new hero, Tim." Tony said softly.

"No Tony, Boss and I were just hanging in there when you and Ziva showed up. Plus, you wouldn't have even come without Abby. You guys get the win."

"Yes, yes," Ducky said impatiently. "We'll discuss it all later. We can't leave these poor wrists in this warm water."

"He's handling the pain quite well, Ducky."

"He's in shock, Ziva. Let's get a towel and dry him off. Tony, I'm going to need you to reach in and pull him forward by his torso. Don't touch his arms. Then Ziva, you grab the back of his torso and we'll pull him out without hurting him. Abby, go find some sweats. He'll be mortified once the shock wears off and he finds out he went to the hospital in nothing but his birthday suit."

McGee yelled out as Tony started to lift him under his arms. Ziva linked arms with Tony and they pulled him out of the tub. Abby was there with a towel and a pair of sweats. Ducky stood back and watched them work together. Soon they had McGee down the stairs and into the arms of waiting EMT's. Jethro nodded at Ducky, and he allowed himself to be put into the other ambulance.

Tony pulled Ziva and Abby in close and they hugged each other tightly. Ducky stood back and watched it all. It was a family, and Ducky was proud to be part of it.

…..

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: One more chapter left. I had to inject a little humor here. I hope it works for you. Let me know what you think. Sheila

Grand Canyon Deep

Chapter 10

Gibbs stared at the sun rising through the drawn shades of the hospital room. He was in the bed closest to the door so he had it at a bad angle but it was the only thing moving in the room other than McGee's breathing in the bed next to his.

McGee was 35 years old but to Gibbs he had always be the 'boy' on the team, the one who needed seasoning, but that was all over after last night. McGee had swallowed his fear and, and stayed in the game as well as any Marine Gibbs had ever seen in combat. He might still have the face of a kid, but he was all grown up.

The door to the room eased open, letting in light, and Leon Vance stepped in the room. Gibbs nodded at him, and then a shadow behind Vance emerged as Jackie Vance. She looked nothing like the confident woman Gibbs was used to seeing. It was clear that she had been crying. Gibbs tried to rise.

Vance was there. "Just relax, Gibbs. You took quite a knock to the head. We're just stopping in to check on you."

"Everything okay?" His intense blue eyes studied them.

"Yeah," Vance nodded. "The kids, all three of them, are eating pancakes cooked by Rusty Balboa as we speak. Everything is good."

Gibbs' eyes settled on Jackie.

Vance cleared his throat. "Sometimes, when I'm home and I get a report, I go into my study and put it on speaker so I can take notes. My dear wife came downstairs and eavesdropped on the report I took from DiNozzo last night."

"And I'm not at all sorry I did," she said, giving Leon a bitter look. "I think I have a right to know when two men almost die protecting my children."

Vance gave Gibbs a long-suffering look.

Gibbs winced at her. "There was a team on your house all last night. They wouldn't have gotten very far even if they had an address."

She ignored him. Her eyes had settled on McGee. He was sleeping deeply, one wrist in a simple splint and the other in a cast suspended above his head. "How is he?"

"He was in surgery most of the night. His right wrist was broken in two places."

"They almost set fire to him and he didn't tell them where Devon was. They threw lighter fluid on him and he said nothing." She gripped her husband's arm tightly.

"Jackie," Gibbs said slowly. "If he had said something, it wouldn't have stopped them from killing us. The longer we stayed silent, the better chance we were going to survive."

She looked at him. "So you're telling me that it was a purely rational decision to not say anything."

Gibbs almost smiled. Leon had married a very strong and intelligent woman. "If McGee had told them, we would've died. And then nine really savage men would've shown up on your doorstep. I figure the watch team could've taken out 4-5 of them, but that would've still left another 4 or 5 in the house against your husband with ten minutes before back up could arrive. A lot can happen in ten minutes. Our only chance of survival for all of us was hanging in there. Luckily, Abby was there to go for help."

"So this is the part where I thank you for my children's lives and when I say children, I include Devon, and you tell me that it's all in a day's work."

Gibbs looked over at McGee for a moment. "I won't do that to you."

She smiled. "Thank you, Jethro."

She walked over to McGee's bed and leaned under the suspended arm and kissed him on the forehead, and then she turned back to him, wagging a finger. "I won't embarrass you with the same, but I thanked God for both of you last night and I will do it every night because of what you did."

She started to tear up again and exited the room. Leon Vance visibly relaxed. "I got to learn to lock my study."

"She's right. McGee had a chance to go out a window and he didn't take it. I know it was to protect Abby, but he also wasn't going to leave me."

"Computer geek does good, huh?"

"I never gave him enough credit, Leon. I saw that soft, sweet exterior and just kept pushing. I wasn't sure who he'd be when the time came. Well, the time came, and he was…" Gibbs shook his head. "As good, if not better, than any man or woman I've fought alongside."

Leon nodded. "The son of an admiral. I've always imagined he had a lot to live up to. I've talked to the admiral in the past. If he had his way, Tim would be an academic at Stanford. Feels like he's wasting his talents as a 'computer tech' for a law enforcement team."

Gibbs' eyebrows rose. "I hope you set him straight."

"Have you ever met an admiral who listened to more than the sound of his own voice? The point is that McGee may look soft, but it was clear to me after five minutes with his father on MTAC that he knows how to fight a Goliath. Lord knows, he's lasted with you as his boss for eight years."

Gibbs grew the hint of a smile. "We going to find a commendation for him, right?"

"I got one in the works for both of you. Couldn't let Jackie hear this but I'll never forget either one of you for keeping that horror show away from my doorstep."

"Jackie still okay keeping Devon?"

"My wife grew up in the projects. She has some very personal feelings about that boy. The only trouble we're going to have is in getting her to let go of him."

….

Ducky held them off until late that afternoon. He wanted Gibbs and McGee to get as much rest as possible before the troops moved in. They finally all piled out of the elevator after a day of treating Gibbs' house as a crime scene. Tony carried a pizza followed by Abby, Ziva, and Ducky. They were moving so fast that they almost missed a strange sight in the waiting room. Gibbs was there in pajamas and robe, legs up on a chair and reading a newspaper. Everyone stopped short and Abby cocked her head. "What are you doing out here, Gibbs?"

He looked up at them. "How bad is my house?"

Tony shrugged. "A few broken windows, bullets in the wall, plaster on the floor: it's going to need a little work."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

Abby frowned. "Is Timmy all right?"

He gave her a withering look. "The Elf Lord is just fine. He's in his room holding forth on all manner of topics."

"With himself?"

Gibbs glared at Ducky. "They have to change his pain medication or I'm going to need another room. I understand you suggested that they add a bit of a mood stabilizer."

Ducky blinked. "Yes, I thought he might struggle as he did after the first attack. I was worried about a depression."

"Yeah, well, his mood ain't stabilized. I preferred a depressed McGee to this."

"What are you talking about?"

He gestured with his head. "Go see for yourself."

Ducky went in search of McGee's chart while Tony, Ziva, and Abby ventured into the room. McGee looked up and smiled. "Hi guys."

Tony looked him over. "They have you all strung up here."

McGee looked up at his suspended arm as if seeing it for the first time. "Yeah."

"How you doing, Timmy?" Abby asked.

He smiled. "I love you, Abby."

Startled, she looked back at Tony and Ziva. "Well, I love you too, McGee."

"How is it bunking with the boss? I imagine it isn't easy."

"I love it. Boss is the greatest. I can talk to him about anything." His words had a mumbled, sleepy quality.

Tony looked at Ziva. "He loves everything. Who is this guy?"

Abby patted his bed. "So what did you talk to Gibbs about?"

McGee smiled at her drowsily. "I told him that I loved him and you and Tony and Ziva and Ducky and then I told him that we made love in his house and that it was the best sex ever. And then I told him about that thing you like where I put my hand—"

Unable to reach him easily because of his arm, Abby scrambled up on the bed, straddling him and covering his mouth with both hands. He struggled against her and she let go. He looked up at her with his brows furrowed in confusion, and then gestured toward Tony and Ziva saying, "Here, Abby? Ziva and Tony are totally watching us."

She turned his face back toward hers. "No, McGee! It is not happening here, and it isn't happening anywhere, ever again."

Tony collapsed against the wall trying to control laughter that was convulsing up from his gut. Ziva had a hand over her mouth, tears of laughter running down her cheeks.

The door opened and Ducky came in. "Abigail, get off of him!"

"Before or after I strangle him."

"Abigail!"

Abby climbed off of him and Tim turned his head. "Duckyyyyy."

This sent Tony into a new set of convulsions. Gibbs followed Ducky in and settled into his bed, glaring at all of them. "You all think this is funny? I am not having fun in the same room as Mr. Smut-mouth."

"Yes, yes, Jethro. Clearly, Timothy is a bit overmedicated."

"Where were you, Boss? I was looking for you. We were having such a nice talk." McGee drawled, his words running together.

Gibbs looked up at the ceiling. "Duck!"

…..

Ducky helped Tim get a t-shirt over his head. "Ducky, I know you said it was a dream, but I totally remember saying some very inappropriate things to people, particularly to the boss."

"Nonsense! Pain medication can be like that sometimes. Your dreams can feel like reality."

"You don't understand. I am beyond mortified. If I really said what I think I said, I can't look the boss in the eye ever again. It was pretty awful. What am I going to do about Abby?"

"It was just a dream, Timothy!"

Ziva and Tony appeared in the doorway. "Is McPatient ready to go?"

Tim looked at him. "Tony, you were there. I said some pretty crazy stuff, didn't I? I really embarrassed the Boss and Abby."

Tony closed his eyes. The ammunition that McMedicated had gifted him with the other night was never going to come his way again. Ziva kicked him.

"McGee, all you did was mumble. If you said something crazy, nobody could make it out. You didn't embarrass anybody."

"You'd tell me the truth?"

"Are you kidding?" Tony gave him a crooked smile. "You know me. If you'd said crazy…inappropriate things, I'd…never let you live it down, would I?"

McGee narrowed his eyes at him. "You wouldn't, would you?"

"You know me."

McGee turned back to Ducky. "Can't they just take me home?"

"You can't dress yourself, Timothy. I'm afraid you're due a few days at the Mallard home."

"Please!"

Tony patted him on the back. "We'll have fun. I'm bringing all my movies."

…..

Gibbs was sitting on the porch in a rocking chair when they arrived at Ducky's. McGee wasn't quite confident that his memories were all a dream. He couldn't meet Gibbs' eyes as he walked up the steps. Ducky steered him to a swing. "Sit down here, Timothy. We'll go and set up your room."

Tony and Ziva followed him inside. McGee cleared his throat after the door closed. "Boss, I think I owe you an apology."

Gibbs shook his head and chuckled. "You had a dream, McGee."

"That's the only response I'm going to get out of any of you, isn't it?"

"Yup."

"Abby's going to kill me."

Gibbs smiled as he looked out over the lawn. "Not if you do that thing with your hand."

"Oh God!" McGee dropped his face into his hands.

"Get it over it, McGee. The rest of us have."

Finally McGee raised his head. "What are you doing here, Boss?"

"I've been sequestered here until Fornell and his buddies have finished with my place."

"Fornell?"

"If Tobias wasn't so busy protecting Western Civilization, he'd be fixing up houses. Loves it. It's his weekend, and he's in his glory right now plastering and repainting my walls. Won't let me help though."

McGee looked down at his damaged wrists. "How's your head feeling?"

"Probably better than your wrists."

"Are you worried that I'll struggle again?"

"No, not really. The McGee I saw the other night is one of the strongest men I've ever met. You're a survivor. You might have temporary setbacks, but you'll never let this life beat you."

McGee blushed and looked away.

"All told, we killed four of them, four are in jail, and T-Bone is still in the hospital with a skull fracture. Not a bad bit of work if I say so myself."

McGee nodded.

Gibbs turned to him. "Tim, you put her out that window and you could've followed her, but you knew they wouldn't stop until they figured out who was upstairs. They would've found the two of you on that roof. You didn't follow her because it was the best way to protect her, and because you wanted to help me."

"Boss, you're accusing me of doing a great deal of complex thinking in a very short amount of time."

"Sounds just like something you'd be capable of doing."

"I don't remember it like that."

"I saw you at your very best, and it was quite impressive. You and I might not have a great deal in common; we might not know how to share our lives with one another, but we shared this and I know exactly who you are now."

"I was damn scared, Boss."

"Makes two of us."

McGee nodded. "Here's hoping we never have to go through something like that again."

"Amen, Tim."

…

TBC


End file.
